1 Loud let the tuneful trumpet sound,
And spread the joyful tidings round;
Let ev'ry soul with transport hear,
And hail the Lord's accepted year.

2 Ye debtors whom he gives to know,
That you ten thousand talents owe,
When humble at this feet you fall,
Your gracious God forgives them all.

3 Slaves, that have borne the heavy chain
Of sin and hell's tyrannic reign,
To liberty assert your claim,
And urge the great Redeemer's name.

4 The rich inheritance of heav'n,
Your joy, your boast, is freely giv'n;
Fair Salem you arrival waits,
With golden streets and pearly gates.

5 Her bless'd inhabitants no more
Bondage and poverty deplore;
No debt, but love immensely great,
Their joy still rises with the debt.

6 O happy souls that know the sound!
Celestial light their steps surround,
And shew the jubilee begun,
Which thro' eternal years shall run.