The Year of Jubilee

Fair shines the morning star;
The silver trumpets sound,
Their notes re-echoing far,
While dawns the day around:
Joy to the slave; the slave is free;
It is the year of Jubilee.

Prisoners of hope, in gloom
And silence left to die,
With Christ's unfolding tomb,
Your portals open fly;
Rise with your Lord;--He sets you free;
It is the year of Jubilee.

Ye, who have sold for naught
The land your Fathers won,
Behold, how God hath wrought
Redemption through His Son;
Your heritage again is free;
It is the year of Jubilee.

Ye, who yourselves have sold
For debts to Justice due,
Ransom'd, but not with gold,
He gave Himself for you!
The blood of Christ hath made you free:
It is the year of Jubilee.

Captives of sin and shame,
O'er earth and ocean, hear
An angel's voice proclaim
The Lord's accepted year:
Let Jacob rise, be Israel free;
It is the year of Jubilee.