Classic Poem

HYMN XXIV.

Angels and Men your songs renew,
Sing all with pious mirth;
Rejoice and shout, ye heavens above,
And be thou glad, O earth.

His son the God of grace sent down
With sinful men to dwell,
The wretched captives to redeem
From the wide jaws of hell.

So heinous were our crimes, so great
Our guilt; that nothing less
Than the effusion of his blood
Could purchase our release.

His blood his father's wrath atones,
Quenches infernal fire,
Disarms Death of its poison'd sting,
Makes hell's black troops retire.

He gain'd this victory alone,
We in the triumph share;
He wore our thorns, that we with him
Might crowns of glory wear.

Thy love, O Lord our righteousness ,
Our highest thoughts transcends;
Divinely free, and knows no bounds;
Constant, and never ends.

O may that Joy thy favor brings,
In all our souls abound!
So while our king at table sits,
Our tongues his praise shall sound.

Of the sweet fruits of paradise,
Thou giv'st us here a tast;
Wisely reserving for thy friends
The best wine to the last;

To that bright endless day, when we
Shall hidden manna eat
Amid heav'nly Eden , where
Our bliss shall be complete.