The news of his grace on the breezes is gliding,
And nations are owning his sway.
2 And now thro’ the darkness of earth’s gloomy regions,
The wheels of his chariot are rolling sublime;
His banners unfolding his own true religion,
Dispelling the errors of time.
3 Behold a bright angel from heaven descending,
High lifting his trumpet, hosannas to raise:
“Hail, Son of the Highest! let every knee bending,
Adore thee with offerings of praise.