All Hail to Thee, O Blessèd Morn!

All hail to thee

O bless­èd morn!

To tid­ings long by pro­phets borne

Hast thou ful­fill­ment giv­en.

O sac­red and im­mor­tal day

When un­to earth

in glo­ri­ous ray

Descends the grace of Heav­en!

Singing

ring­ing

sounds are blend­ing

Praises send­ing un­to Heav­en

For the Sav­ior to us giv­en.

’Tis God’s own im­age and with­al

The Son of Man

that mor­tals all

May find in Him a bro­ther.

He comes

with peace and love to bide

On earth

the err­ing race to guide

And help as could no oth­er;

Rather ga­ther clos­er

fond­er

Sheep that wan­der

feed and fold them

Than let ev­il pow­ers hold them.

He tears

like oth­er men

will shed

Our sor­rows share

and be our aid

Through His eter­nal pow­er;

The Lord’s good will un­to us show

And min­gle in our cup of woe

The drops of mer­cy’s show­er;

Dying

buy­ing through His pas­sion

Our sal­va­tion and to mor­tals

Opening the heav­en­ly por­tals.

He comes

for our re­demp­tion sent

And by His glo­ry Heav­en is rent

To close up­on us nev­er;

Our bless­èd Shep­herd He would be

Whom we may fol­low faith­ful­ly

And be with Him for­ev­er;

Higher

nigh­er glo­ry wing­ing

Praises sing­ing to the Fa­ther

And His Son

our Lord and Sav­ior.