Our risen Lord again we greet,
Radiant from death, and sin laid low;
And, tho’ with scars on hands and feet,
The victor’s wreath’s upon His brow.
O blessèd Christ, this Easter day,
Victorious to our life return;
Walk with us thro’ its every way,
Till our hearts, too, within us burn.
We hear again the angels say,
The Lord is ris’n, He is not here;
And far and wide proclaim today
With joyful hearts the message clear.
O glorious day that gives us back
In triumph clad our blessèd dead!
That smiles on graves and griefs so black
That hope before them quails in dread.