Hosanna, loud ho­san­na,
The lit­tle child­ren sang;
Through pil­lared court and tem­ple
The lovely an­them rang.
To Je­sus, who had blessed them
Close fold­ed to His breast,
The child­ren sang their prais­es,
The simp­lest and the best.

From Ol­iv­et they fol­lowed
Mid an ex­ult­ant crowd,
The vic­tor palm branch wav­ing,
And chant­ing clear and loud;
Bright an­gels joined the chor­us,
Beyond the cloud­less sky,
Hosanna in the high­est,
Glory to God on high!

Fair leaves of sil­ve­ry olive
They strewed up­on the ground,
While Sa­lem’s circ­ling mount­ains
Echoed the joy­ful sound;
The Lord of men and an­gels
Rode on in low­ly state,
Nor scorned that lit­tle child­ren
Should on His bid­ding wait.

Hosanna in the high­est!
That an­cient song we sing,
For Christ is our Re­deem­er,
The Lord of Hea­ven our king.
O may we ev­er praise Him
With heart and life and voice,
And in His bliss­ful pre­sence
Eternally rejoice!