HARK! the glad sound, the Saviour comes,
   The Saviour promised long;
Let every heart prepare a throne,
    And every voice a song.
2  He comes, the prisoners to release
    In Satan’s bondage held:
The gates of brass before Him burst,
    The iron fetters yield.
3  He comes, from thickest films of vice
    To clear the mental ray,
And on the darkness of the blind
    To pour celestial day.
4  He comes, the broken heart to bind,
    The bleeding soul to cure,
And with the treasures of His grace
    To enrich the humble poor.
5  Our glad hosannas, Prince of Peace,
    Thy welcome shall proclaim;
And Heaven’s eternal arches ring
    With Thy belovèd name.
Philip Doddridge, 1702-51