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 your Lord; he sets you free;

It is the year of jubilee.

3 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.

4 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.