Come, ye faithful, raise the anthem,
Cleave the skies with shouts of praise;
Sing to Him who found a ransom,
Ancient of eternal days,
God of God, the Word Incarnate,
Whom the heaven of heaven obeys.
Ere He raised the lofty mountains,
Formed the seas, or built the sky,
Love eternal, free, and boundless,
Moved the Lord of Life to die,
Foreordained the Prince of princes
For the throne of Calvary.
If His people walk in darkness
Through the thickest clouds of night,
He, according to His promise,
Sends the pillar-beam of light;
Then they pass along His highway,
Turning not to left or right.
When the thirsty pant for water,
And no cooling streams are found,
He descends, like showers in spring-time,
Softening all the parched ground;
While the smitten Rock its torrents
Pours in ample streams around.
Hungry souls that faint and languish
By His boundless hand are fed!
Yes, He gives them food immortal!
Gives Himself, the living bread,
Gives the chalice of His passion,
Rich with blood on Calvary shed.
Trust Him, then, ye fearful pilgrims—
Who shall pluck you from His hand?
Pledged He stands for their salvation,
Who are fighting for His land;
Oh! that we, amidst His true ones,
Round His throne may one day stand!