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 prisoner 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 eyes oppressed with night
To pour celestial day.
He comes, the broken heart to bind,
The wounded 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 beloved name.
The necessity of a Saviour was felt and acknowledged; and the suitableness, all-sufficiency, and condescension of Jesus, when he undertook and accomplished the great designs in which his love engaged him, were more strongly illustrated by the preceding contrast. He knew the whole human race were sinners, rebels, enemies against God. He knew the terms, the price of our redemption, that he must obey, suffer, weep, and die: Yet he came. He emptied himself of his glory and honour, and took on him the form of a servant, to bring the glad tidings of salvation to men.