Hosanna to the Prince of light,
That clothed himself in clay;
Entered the iron gates of death,
And tore the bars away!
Death no more is the king of dread,
Since our Savior rose;
He took Satan’s sting away,
And spoiled our ancient foe.
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 Savior exalted reigns,
Blessings he scatters down;
Jesus sits at the Father’s throne
And wears the heavn’ly crown.
Lift up your voice, mortal tongues,
To reach his blessed home
Sweet is the music of your songs
To our incarnate God.
Angels strike your loudest strings,
Sweet your voices raise;
Heaven and all creation sings
To join our Savior’s praise!
Main Scripture: Ephesians 4:8
Text: Isaac Watts (1707), altered by Wendell Kimbrough (2012)
Music: Wendell Kimbrough (2012)
Meter: 18.104.22.168 D
Copyright: ©2012 Wendell Kimbrough