When Jordan Hushed His Waters Still

When Jor­dan hushed his wa­ters still

And si­lence slept on Zi­on’s hill;

When Sa­lem’s shep­herds through the night

Watched o’er their flocks by star­ry light;

Hark! from the mid­night hills around

A voice

of more than mor­tal sound

In dist­ant hal­le­lu­jahs stole

Wild mur­mur­ing o’er the rap­tured soul.

Then swift to ev­ery star­tled eye

New streams of glo­ry gild the sky;

Heaven bursts her az­ure gates

to pour

Her spir­its to the mid­night hour.

On wheels of light

on wings of flame

The glo­ri­ous hosts to Zi­on came;

High Heav­en with songs of tri­umph rung

While thus they smote their harps and sung:

O Zi­on! lift thy rap­tured eye

The long ex­pect­ed hour is nigh;

The joy of na­ture rise again

The Prince of Sa­lem comes to reign!

See Mer­cy

from her gold­en urn

Pours a rich stream to those that mourn;

Behold

she binds with ten­der care

The bleed­ing bosom of des­pair.

He comes to cheer the trem­bling heart

Bids Sa­tan and his host de­part;

Again the day-star gilds the gloom

Again the bow­ers of Ed­en bloom!