Awake, glad soul! awake! awake!
Thy Lord has ris­en long;
Go to His grave, and with thee take
Both tune­ful heart and song.

Where life is wak­ing all around,
Where love’s sweet voic­es sing,
The first bright blos­som may be found
Of an eter­nal spring.

The shade and gloom of life are fled
This re­sur­rect­ion day;
Henceforth in Christ are no more dead,
The grave hath no more prey.

In Christ we live, in Christ we sleep,
In Christ we wake and rise,
And the sad tears death makes us weep,
He wipes from all our eyes.

And ev­ery bird and ev­ery tree,
And ev­ery op­en­ing flow­er,
Proclaim His glo­ri­ous vic­to­ry,
His re­sur­rect­ion pow­er.

The folds are glad, the fields re­joice,
With ver­nal ver­dure spread,
The lit­tle hills lift up their voice
And shout that death is dead.

Then wake, glad heart! awake! awake
And seek Thy ris­en Lord;
Joy in His re­sur­rect­ion take,
And com­fort in His Word.

And let thy life, through all its ways,
One long thanks­giv­ing be:
Its theme of joy, its song of praise—
Christ died, and rose for me.