Prophetic era! bliss­ful day!
We catch thy warm, in­spir­ing ray,
Which gleams o’er In­dia’s plains;
We hail the dawn of morn­ing light
That breaks up­on the gloomy night,
Where su­per­sti­tion reigns.

We hast­en thy ad­vance to meet;
With vi­vid joy the sign we greet,
That bright­ens in the sky—
The peace­ful sign of hea­ven­ly love,
Which like the ho­ly mys­tic dove,
Declares Mes­si­ah nigh.

Behold! He comes in tri­umph now;
Before Him see the mount­ains bow,
And all the val­leys rise;
He comes with ma­jes­ty and grace,
To sanc­ti­fy the hu­man race,
And raise them to the skies.

We’ll aid Thy tri­umphs, migh­ty King!
The glo­ries of Thy cross we’ll sing,
And shout sal­va­tion round;
Till eve­ry na­tion, ev­ery land,
From Green­land’s shore to Af­ric’s strand
Shall ec­ho back the sound.

Let earth com­mence the lof­ty praise;
Let Hea­ven pro­long th’en­rap­tured lays,
Swell ev­ery tune­ful lyre;
Bright se­raphs! chant th’im­mor­tal song,
And pour the bound­ing notes along,
From Hea­ven’s eter­nal choir.