Your dead will live, Lord; their bodies will rise—let those who dwell in the dust wake up and shout for joy—Your dew is like the dew of the morning; the earth will give birth to her dead. Isaiah 26:19
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A light in the sky that is golden and clear,
A sound of glad bells falling sweet on the ear,
A thrill of a bird from a summer land come,
A joy in the heart, and a song in the home.
O Easter, glad Easter! We greet thee again,
And fain would forget all our sorrow and pain,
Gethsemane’s garden full well we have known,
But now we look up to a conqueror’s throne.
A perfume from roses and lilies full fair,
An anthem of praise ringing out on the air,
A balm to the hearts that by grief have been riv’n,
A key to the grave, and a promise of Heav’n.
Here pardon and peace for the heart we shall find,
And solace for sorrow, and strength for the mind,
For surely and surely our dead shall arise,
When th’last Easter morning gilds brightly the skies.