Hail to the Lord Who Comes

Hail to the Lord who comes

Comes to His tem­ple gate;

Not with His an­gel host

Not in His king­ly state;

No shouts pro­claim Him nigh

No crowds His com­ing wait.

But

borne up­on the throne

Of Ma­ry’s gen­tle breast

Watched by her du­te­ous love

In her fond arms at rest

Thus to His Fa­ther’s house

He comes

the heav’n­ly Guest.

There Jo­seph at her side

In rev­er­ent won­der stands

And

filled with ho­ly joy

Old Si­me­on in his hands

Takes up the pro­mised Child

The glo­ry of all lands.

Hail to the great First-born

Whose ran­som price they pay!

The Son be­fore all worlds

The Child of man to­day

That He might ran­som us

Who still in bond­age lay.

O Light of all the earth

Thy child­ren wait for Thee!

Come to Thy tem­ples here

That we

from sin set free

Before Thy Fa­ther’s face

May all pre­sent­ed be!

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