Hymns and Sacred Poems (1749), Hymn 42

Rejoice, and sing,
(The Lord is King,)
And make a cheerful noise,
To God your ceaseless praises bring,
Again I say, Rejoice.
Ye sons of grace,
Your voices raise,
And rival those above,
Delight in your Redeemer's praise,
And dwell upon His love.
The great I AM
From heaven He came,
To make that heaven our own:
Bow every knee to Jesu's name
And kiss the incarnate Son.
The Son of God
Pour'd out His blood
And soul in sacrifice:
Plunge all in that mysterious flood,
That bears you to the skies.
The Victim slain
Arose again.
"All things are now ready" (3
Returning from the dead:
Ye saints, essay your choicest strain,
And shout your living Head:
Who left the sky,
Went up on high,
And reassumed His own:
Ye saints to yon bright regions fly,
And light upon His throne.
His glorious reign
He shall maintain;
Your crowns from Him receive,
And live, redeem'd from death and pain,
As long as God shall live.