O Ho­ly Church, but yes­ter-night
In dust thy robes were trail­ing,
The dew was hea­vy on thy head,
And thou thy Lord be­wail­ing;
O Ho­ly Church, the gates are burst,
The seal could hold no long­er;
The clos­ing stone was ada­mant,
The God in­side was strong­er.

O Ho­ly Church, this East­er morn,
Thy rich­est ban­quet spread,
Thy ris­en Lord, a-hun­gered comes
To bless and share thy bread;
O Ho­ly Church, the Lord is here,
Let him re­pent who hear­eth,
Arise and shine, thy light is come,
Thy glo­ry now ap­pear­eth.

O Ho­ly Church, dear bride of Christ,
With flow­ers be­deck thine al­tar,
Array thy courts in ev­er­greens,
Intone thy rich­est psalt­er;
O mo­ther dear, who all thy Lord’s
Rare grac­es dost in­her­it,
Now bid the loud Ter Sanc­tus rise,
To Fa­ther, Son, and Spi­rit.