Hosanna, loud hosanna, the little children sang;
Through pillared court and temple the lovely anthem rang.
To Jesus, who had blessed them close folded to His breast,
The children sang their praises, the simplest and the best.

From Olivet they followed mid an exultant crowd,
The victor palm branch waving, and chanting clear and loud.
The Lord of men and angels rode on in lowly state,
Nor scorned that little children should on His bidding wait.

“Hosanna in the highest!” that ancient song we sing,
For Christ is our Redeemer, the Lord of heaven our King.
O may we ever praise Him with heart and life and voice,
And in His blissful presence eternally rejoice!

There was a time when children sang
The Savior’s praise with sacred glee,
And all the hills of Judah rang
With their exulting jubilee.

O to have joined their rapturous songs,
And swelled their sweet hosannas high,
And blessed Him with our feeble tongues
As He, the Man of grief, went by!

But Christ is now a glorious King,
And angels in His presence bow;
The humble songs that we can sing,
O will He, can He, hear them now?

He can, He will, He loves to hear
The notes which loving children raise;
Jesus, we come with trembling fear:
O teach our hearts and tongues to praise!

We join the hosts around Thy throne,
Who once, like us, the desert trod;
And thus we make their song our own,
Hosanna to the Son of God!