Now dawn­ing glows the day of days;
All Hea­ven re­sounds with songs of praise!
From earth loud shouts of tri­umph rise
And hell be­neath with groans rep­lies.

For He, the migh­ty King of day,
Hath crushed proud death’s un­law­ful sway,
And, march­ing through that dark do­main,
He broke the wea­ry pri­son­er’s chain.

Fierce sol­diers o’er His tomb kept guard;
A migh­ty stone the en­trance barred;
But, burst­ing from His pri­son, He rose
Triumphant o’er His baf­fled foes.

Loosed are the pains of hell this hour;
Death ov­er life hath lost his pow­er;
The Lord is ris­en, the an­gel said,
Why seek the liv­ing ’mid the dead?

Thou gra­cious King and Lord of day,
Dwell Thou with­in our hearts, we pray;
So from Thine own shall grate­ful praise
Rise to Thy throne through all our days.