Hosanna to the Prince of Light,
That cloth’d himself in clay,
Enter’d the iron gates of death,
And tore the bars away.

Death is no more the king of dread
Since our Immanuel rose,
He took the tyrant’s sting away,
And spoil’d our hellish foes.

See how the Conqueror mounts aloft,
And to his Father flies,
With scars of honour in his flesh,
And triumph in his eyes.

There our exalted Saviour reigns,
And scatters blessings down,
Our Jesus fills the middle seat
Of the celestial throne.

Raise your devotion, mortal tongues,
To reach his bless’d abode,
Sweet be the accents of your songs
To our incarnate God.

Bright angels, strike your loudest strings,
Your sweetest voices raise,
Let heaven, and all created things,
Sound our Immanuel’s praise.

This entry was posted on Sunday, April 4th, 2010 at 12:19 pm and is filed under Life, Songs. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.