Could we refuse a song of praise,
This Easter morn to sing?
Should we refuse, the very stones
A song of praise would ring.
The earth has broken winter’s thrall,
The birds begin to sing;
The trees put forth their tender shoots,
And thus their praises bring;
The very air is pulsing, too,
With music all around;
The flowers look from grassy nooks
As wakened by the sound.
The sun rolls higher on his path,
Rejoicing in his ways;
The streams have burst their icy bonds
To join the song of praise.
For O, one far off Easter morn,
Christ cleft the realms of night;
He gained the victor’s glorious crown,
And gave us life and light;
He broke the bonds of death and hell,
The world has suffered long,
And gave us themes of life and love,
For each new Easter song.