1 Fair shines the morning star;
The silver trumpets sound,
Their notes re-echoing far,
While dawns the day around:
Joy to the slave; the slave is free;
It is the year of Jubilee.
2 Prisoners of hope, in gloom
And silence left to die,
With Christ’s unfolding tomb,
Your portals open fly;
Rise with the Lord—He sets you free;
It is the year of Jubilee.
3 Ye, who have sold for naught
The land your fathers won,
Behold how God hath wrought
Redemption through His Son;
Your heritage again is free,
It is the year of Jubilee.
4 Ye, who yourselves have sold
For debts to justice due,
Ransomed, but not with gold,
He gave Himself for you!
The blood of Christ hath made you free;
It is the year of Jubilee.
5 Captives of sin and shame,
O’er earth and ocean, hear
An angel’s voice proclaim
The Lord’s accepted year;
Let Jacob rise, be Israel free;
It is the year of Jubilee.