Fair Shines the Morning Star

Fair shines the morn­ing star;

The sil­ver trum­pets sound

Their notes re-ec­ho­ing far

While dawns the day around:

Joy to the slave; the slave is free;

It is the year of Ju­bi­lee.

Prisoners of hope

in gloom

And si­lence left to die

With Christ’s un­fold­ing tomb

Your por­tals op­en fly;

Rise with the Lord—He sets you free;

It is the year of Ju­bi­lee.

Ye

who have sold for naught

The land your fa­thers won

Behold how God hath wrought

Redemption through His Son;

Your heri­tage again is free

It is the year of Ju­bi­lee.

Ye

who your­selves have sold

For debts to jus­tice due

Ransomed

but not with gold

He gave Him­self for you!

The blood of Christ hath made you free;

It is the year of Ju­bi­lee.

Captives of sin and shame

O’er earth and ocean

hear

An an­gel’s voice pro­claim

The Lord’s ac­cept­ed year;

Let Ja­cob rise

be Is­ra­el free;

It is the year of Ju­bi­lee.