Prepare the way, O Zion!
Ye awful deeps, rise high;
Sink low, ye towering mountains,
The Lord is drawing nigh;
The righteous King of glo­ry,
Foretold in sacred story.

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O blest is He that came
In God the Fa­ther’s name.

O Zion, He approacheth,
Thy Lord and king for aye!
Strew palms where He advanceth,
Spread garments in His way.
God’s promise faileth ne­ver,
Hosanna sound for­ev­er!

Fling wide thy portals, Zion
And hail thy glo­ri­ous king;
His tidings of sal­va­tion
To every people bring,
Who, waiting yet in sadness,
Would sing His praise in gladness.

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He cometh not with warriors,
And not with pomp and show,
Yet smiteth He with terror
Sin, death, and every foe.
The Spi­rit’s sword He wieldeth,
Not e’en to death He yieldeth.

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Give heed, thou sinful people,
Thy king and Sav­ior own;
The kingdom He hath founded
Is not an earthly one;
No power can overthrow it,
Nor earthly wisdom know it.

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The throne which He ascendeth
Is fixed in heaven above:
His sanctified dominion
Is light alone and love.
His praise be ever sounding
For grace and peace abounding.

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Jerusalem is fallen,
And closed its temple door;
Its sacrifices ended;
Its scepter is no more.
Christ’s kingdom ne­ver ceaseth,
Its glo­ry still increaseth.

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