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O for a shout of  sacred joy

O for a shout of sacred joy
To God the sovíreign King!
Let evíry land their tongues employ,
And hymns of triumph sing.

Jesus our God ascends on high,
His heavínly guards around
Attend Him rising through the sky,
With trumpetsí joyful sound.

While angels shout and praise their King,
Let mortals learn their strains;
Let all the earth His honors sing;
Oíer all the earth He reigns.

Rehearse His praise with awe profound,
Let knowledge lead the song,
Nor mock Him with a solemn sound
Upon a thoughtless tongue.

In Isríel stood His ancient throne,
He lovíd that chosen race;
But now He calls the world His own,
And heathens taste His grace.

The British islands are the Lordís,
There Abrahamís God is known;
While powers and princes, shields and swords,
Submit before His throne.

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