He rose! O morn of won­der!
They saw His light go down
Whose hate had crushed Him un­der,
A king with­out a crown.
No plume, no gar­land wore He,
Despised death’s vic­tor lay,
And wrapped in night His glo­ry,
That claimed a grand­er day.

He rose! He burst im­mor­tal
From death’s dark realm alone,
And left its hea­ven­ward por­tal
Swung wide for all His own.
Nor need one ter­ror seize us
To face earth’s fi­nal pain,
For they who fol­low Je­sus,
But die to live again.