 | Sacra Poesis |  |
THE RESURRECTION.
Christ is risen! shout and sing
“Glory to our victor King!”
Christ is risen! O rejoice,
Universe, with one glad voice!
Tell his glory, praise ye him,
Cherubim and Seraphim!
Sing his mercies, for ye can
Truly, sons of fallen man!
Pain and anguish hath he felt,
That at your griefs he might melt;
Sympathy can touch his breast,—
“Come to me, ye shall have rest,
“Wearied pilgrims—O believe
“I will gladden them that grieve.”
The Lord is risen, strong to save;
Mighty, he has burst the grave;
Death is crush'd—the Conqueror
Chain'd to his triumphal car.
Join the glad procession—sing,
“Death, where is thy poison'd sting?
“All thy terrors are no more,
“Though thou wadest still in gore—
“Though thy shafts with steel are tipt,
“In healing balm have they been dipt.”
Swell the chorus, pealing high,
“Grave, where is thy victory?
“Canst thou stop the Spirit's flight,
“Bursting from the realms of night!
“Glory to our victor King!”
Christ is risen! O rejoice,
Universe, with one glad voice!
Tell his glory, praise ye him,
Cherubim and Seraphim!
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Truly, sons of fallen man!
Pain and anguish hath he felt,
That at your griefs he might melt;
Sympathy can touch his breast,—
“Come to me, ye shall have rest,
“Wearied pilgrims—O believe
“I will gladden them that grieve.”
The Lord is risen, strong to save;
Mighty, he has burst the grave;
Death is crush'd—the Conqueror
Chain'd to his triumphal car.
Join the glad procession—sing,
“Death, where is thy poison'd sting?
“All thy terrors are no more,
“Though thou wadest still in gore—
“Though thy shafts with steel are tipt,
“In healing balm have they been dipt.”
Swell the chorus, pealing high,
“Grave, where is thy victory?
“Canst thou stop the Spirit's flight,
“Bursting from the realms of night!
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“See, it soars in bliss above,
“Heir of everlasting love!”
Shout, O shout, in fuller peal,
Throb, each heart, with panting zeal;
Strike the harp with joyous notes;
The burden of the exulting song,
“Praise and power to him belong!”
Through the listening Heaven floats.
“Heir of everlasting love!”
Shout, O shout, in fuller peal,
Throb, each heart, with panting zeal;
Strike the harp with joyous notes;
The burden of the exulting song,
“Praise and power to him belong!”
Through the listening Heaven floats.
Hush, there is a softer voice—
“Comfort ye my flock—rejoice!”
Balm it breathes in every sound,
Healing balm it sheds around:
For us, for us, the day was won;
Jesus pleads at Mercy's throne;
The Father smiles upon the Son,
And happiness is all our own!
“Comfort ye my flock—rejoice!”
Balm it breathes in every sound,
Healing balm it sheds around:
For us, for us, the day was won;
Jesus pleads at Mercy's throne;
The Father smiles upon the Son,
And happiness is all our own!
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