Hosannah to the Prince of Light

Hosannah to the Prince of light

That clothed Him­self in clay

Entered 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 spoiled our hell­ish foes.

See how the Con­quer­or mounts aloft

And to His Fa­ther flies

With scars of hon­or in His flesh

And tri­umph in His eyes.

There our ex­alt­ed Sav­ior reigns

And scat­ters bless­ings down;

Our Je­sus fills the mid­dle seat

Of the ce­les­ti­al throne.

Raise your de­vo­tion

mor­tal tongues

To reach His blest ab­ode;

Sweet be the ac­cents of your songs

To our in­car­nate God.

Bright an­gels

strike your loud­est strings

Your sweet­est voic­es raise;

Let Heav’n and all cre­at­ed things

Sound our Im­ma­nu­el’s praise.