HARK! I hear a mighty chorus
Rolling from the courts above,
Strains of music roll toward us
Breathing forth the Father's love.
In the Father's house celestial,
Angel hosts with rapture learn
Of the Father's joy in telling
Of a wanderer's return.
From a far-off land a sinner
To the home of joy has come,
“Swell the triumph," do not linger,
Tell ye what the Father's done.
Clothed him with the best of garments
Kissed him with the kiss of love,
Cleansed him, pardoned his estrangement,
Set him in His home above.
Put a ring upon his finger,
Royal sandals on his feet,
“Swell the triumph," do not linger,
One more soul for heaven meet.