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.