From the epistle. [Philip.4:4]

8,8,8,8,8,8,6,8

Macht hoch die Thür, die Thor macht

[49]Weiszel.1635.

trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855

Lift up your heads, ye mighty gates,

Behold the King of glory waits,

The King of kings is drawing near,

The Saviour of the world is here;

Life and salvation doth He bring,

Wherefore rejoice, and gladly sing

Praise, O my God, to Thee!

Creator, wise is Thy decree!

The Lord is just, a helper tried,

Mercy is ever at His side,

His kingly crown is holiness,

His sceptre, pity in distress,

The end of all our woe He brings;

Wherefore the earth is glad and sings

Praise, O my God, to Thee!

O Saviour, great Thy deeds shall be!

Oh, blest the land, the city blest,

Where Christ the ruler is confessed!

Oh, happy hearts and happy homes

To whom this King in triumph comes!

The cloudless Sun of joy He is,

Who bringeth pure delight and bliss;

Praise, O my God, to Thee!

Comforter, for Thy comfort free!

Fling wide the portals of your heart,

Make it a temple set apart

From earthly use for Heaven's employ,

Adorned with prayer, and love, and joy;

So shall your Sovereign enter in,

And new and nobler life begin.

Praise, O my God, be Thine,

For word, and deed, and grace divine.

Redeemer, come! I open wide

My heart to Thee, here, Lord, abide!

Let me Thy inner presence feel,

Thy grace and love in me reveal,

Thy Holy Spirit guide us on

Until our glorious goal is won!

Eternal praise and fame,

Be offered, Saviour, to Thy Name!