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