High on a Hill of Dazzling Light

High on a hill of dazz­ling light

The King of glo­ry spreads His seat

And troops of an­gels stretched for flight

Stand wait­ing round His aw­ful feet.

Go

saith the Lord

My Ga­bri­el

go

Salute the vir­gin’s fruit­ful womb;

Make haste

ye cher­ubs down be­low

Sing and pro­claim the Sav­ior come.

Here a bright squad­ron leaves the skies

And thick around Eli­sha stands;

Anon a heav’n­ly sol­dier flies

And breaks the chains from Pe­ter’s hands.

Thy wing­èd troops

O God of hosts!

Wait on Thy wan­der­ing church be­low:

Here we are sail­ing to Thy coasts;

Let an­gels be our con­voy

too.

Are they not all Thy serv­ants

Lord?

At Thy com­mand they go and come;

With cheer­ful haste ob­ey Thy word

And guard Thy child­ren to their home.