Exult for the trumpet of jubilee sounding
Redemption to all in the thralldom of wrong!
While mountain to mountain the orbs rebounding,
And valley to valley, the gladness pounding!
The drunkard no longer is doomed to his sorrow,
Unhoping, unblessed, in remediless woe,
His bondage is breaking, his darkness may borrow
The rose-light of morning with hope in its glow.
They have come from the depths, they have shivered their fetters,
And walk in the strength of their manhood again;
Their tempter forsaken by victim abettors,
Sits sullen, alone in his comfortless den!
Hurrah for the triumph of water, cold water!
Resound the high pean with showing and song
In full hallelujahs each glad son and daughter
Our psalm of exulting send thrilling along!
Yet pause not, but onward, unfurling the banners
Of virtue and peace, where the water hath trod,
Till the last drunkard’s roof-tree shall shake with hosannas,
And bacchanals shoot the high praises of God!
Right on in the name and the strength of Jehovah,
With blessings untold for the children of woe,
And angels shall bond on their white pinions over
The van of our march, as exulting we go!
The blessing of souls who are ready to perish
Shall fall on the hearts of the faithful and true,
The rescued from ruin and torture shall cherish
In grateful remembrance the labor we do.
The heart of the ransomed will glow with affection,
As, snatched like a brand from the burning, he stands,
And we rejoice in the pure recollection
We gave to his rescue our hearts and our hands.
Exultation