 | [For Easter morning, in] The Treasury of American Sacred Song with notes explanatory and biographical |  |
212
FOR EASTER MORNING
The glad Dawn sets his fires upon the hills,
Then floods the valleys with his golden light,
And, triumphing o'er all the hosts of night,
The waiting world with new-born rapture thrills:
And, hark! I seem to hear a song which fills
The trembling air of earth with heaven's delight,
And straight uplifts, with its celestial might,
Souls faint with longing, compassed round with ills.
Then floods the valleys with his golden light,
And, triumphing o'er all the hosts of night,
The waiting world with new-born rapture thrills:
And, hark! I seem to hear a song which fills
The trembling air of earth with heaven's delight,
And straight uplifts, with its celestial might,
Souls faint with longing, compassed round with ills.
‘Christ, Christ is risen!’ the unseen singers sing:
‘Christ, Christ is risen!’ the echoing hosts reply—
The whist wind feels a passing seraph's wing,
And holds its breath while shining ones go by:
‘Christ, Christ is risen!’—loud let the anthem ring;
He lives—He loves—He saves—we need not die.
‘Christ, Christ is risen!’ the echoing hosts reply—
The whist wind feels a passing seraph's wing,
And holds its breath while shining ones go by:
‘Christ, Christ is risen!’—loud let the anthem ring;
He lives—He loves—He saves—we need not die.
| [For Easter morning, in] The Treasury of American Sacred Song with notes explanatory and biographical | |