124
C. M.
The Advent.
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 prisoner 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 eyeballs 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,
The welcome shall proclaim,
And heaven’s eternal arches ring
With thy belovéd name.
Doddridge.