O ye immortal throng


O ye immortal throng
of angels round the throne,
join with our earth-bound song
to make the Savior known.
On earth ye knew
his wondrous grace,
his beauteous face
in heaven ye view.

Ye saw the heaven-born child
in human flesh arrayed,
so innocent and mild
while in the manger laid.
"Glory to God
and peace on earth,"
for such a birth
ye sang aloud.

Ye in the wilderness
beheld the Tempter spoiled,
unmasked in every dress,
in every combat foiled.
With great delight
ye crowned his head
when Satan fled
the Savior's might.

Ye thronged to Calvary
and pressed with sad desire
that awful sight to see--
the Lord of life expire.
E'en angel eyes
slow tears did shed:
ye mourned the dead
in sad surprise.

Around his sacred tomb
a willing watch ye kept;
till out from death's vast room,
up from the grave, he leapt.
Ye rolled the stone,
and all adored
your rising Lord
with joy unknown.

When all arrayed in light
the shining conqueror rode,
ye hailed his wondrous flight
up to the throne of God.
And waved around
your golden wings,
and struck your strings
of sweetest sound.

The joyous notes pursue
and louder anthems raise;
while mortals sing with you
their own Redeemer's praise.
With equal flame
and equal art,
do thou my heart
extol his Name.


Words: Philip Doddridge (1702-1751), alt.

Music: Croft's 136th

Meter: 66 66 44 44

Website compiled by Steve Benner, 1999-2003.