O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? 1 Corinthians 15:55
The power of death is broken,
Its terrors forever past,
For Jesus who died to save us
Its portals hath safely passed;
He left in the vale of shadows
A light that shall not grow dim,
To guide whosoever follows
In safety and peace to Him.
The Redeemer who once was slain,
The power of darkness conquered,
Is risen, and lives again.
He took on Himself our burden,
The debt of our sin He paid;
Our sorrows He bore, and even
Our stripes upon Him were laid.
To earth from a throne of glory,
In mercy and love He came—
Was born in a lowly manger,
A world that He might reclaim.
Gethsemane saw His anguish,
And Calvary heard Him cry:
’Tis finished! O wondrous mercy,
That He for the world could die!
But, praise to His name forever,
Tho’ dead, yet He lives today!
All majesty, praise and honor,
And glory be His for aye.