Where now its sting, since death itself is dead? Where now the power that held the captive bound? Weave laurels gay to crown the Victor's head, Sing carols loud till earth and heaven resound.
Break, happy morn! and let the world be glad, Night is no more, and all our fears are gone; Joy fills the souls that erstwhile had been sad, Hope fills the tomb, where hope had never shone.
Sleepers, awake! The Christ from death awoke, Break into song, and let the silence sing, Speak to the world what language never spoke, Bring from a tomb what mourners cannot bring.
Glory to God! The Christ hath left the tomb, Hope in our souls is shining as the sun; Clouds bring no fear, for in the deepest gloom, Rest we in faith,--the Victory is won.
Rise, O glorious orb of day,-- Christ no longer fills the grave, He hath risen with power to save,-- Rise, and clear our night away.
Day, by seer and psalmist sung, Gladdest day for earth and heaven, For the Christ, Whom God had given, Hath the power from hades wrung.
Clouds of darkness, bow the head, Weep in raindrops in the night! Sorrow now is chased from sight, For the living Christ was dead.
Heaven above, and earth below,-- Men and angels raise the strain, Death could not the Christ retain,-- Let your praises endless flow.
Ah, the spear, the thorns, the nails, Ah, the dying and the death, And the slow expiring breath,-- But the suffering Christ prevails.
Where can death bestow his prey? Can he hold the Lord of life? Better he had shirked the strife, Than have lost his power for aye.
Rise, O glorious orb of day! Christ no longer fills the grave, He hath risen with power to save,-- Rise, and clear our night away.
Borne on the clouds the Christ arose To where the light celestial glows, Till, farther than the eye could view, He passed the heavenly portals through.
Ended the weary life below, The painful toil, the grief, the woe; The conflict of the cross is past, And sin and death are slain at last.
Now, list the heavenly song begun By hosts in garments like the sun; Lift up, lift up your heads, ye gates! The glorious King an entrance waits.
Ascended Christ! in mercy yet, Think of the hearts on Olivet, And in Thy wondrous grace restore Thy living Presence gone before.