Arise, and hail the sacred day,
Cast all low cares of life away;
And thoughts of meaner things;
This day, to cure our deadly woes,
The Sun of Righteousness arose
With healing in His wings.
If angels on that happy morn
The Savior of the world was born
Poured forth seraphic songs,
Much more should we of human race
Adore the wonders of His grace,
To whom that grace belongs.
How wonderful, how vast His love,
Who left the shining realms above,
Those happy seats of rest;
How much for lost mankind He bore,
Their peace and pardon to restore,
Can never be expressed.
While we adore His boundless grace,
And pious joy and mirth take place
Of sorrow, grief and pain,
Give glory to our God on high,
And not, among the general joy,
Forget good-will to men.
O then let Heav’n and earth rejoice,
Creation’s whole united voice,
And hymn the sacred day,
When sin and Satan vanquished fell,
And all the powers of death and hell,
Before His sovereign sway.