The Lord is ris’n in­deed,
Loud let His prais­es ring!
From death’s do­min­ion freed,
Ascends the con­qu’ring King,
At God’s right hand to take His place
And reign su­preme through ev­er­last­ing days.

The Lord is ris’n in­deed,
Risen to die no more;
And now in Heav’n doth plead
For those whose sins He bore
In dread­ful ang­uish on the tree,
From sin and death to set His peo­ple free.

The Lord is ris’n indeed,
Conqu’ror of death and hell;
He lives, the wo­man’s seed,
The King in­vi­si­ble:
He lives to bruise the ser­pent’s head,
And raise His ran­somed people from the dead.

The Lord is ris’n in­deed,
Entered the courts on high,
To win for man the meed
Of im­mor­ta­li­ty:
And soon to earth will He des­cend,
The cru­el reign of sin and death to end.