This joyful Eastertide,
Away with sin and sorrow!
My Love, the Crucified,
Hath sprung to life this morrow.
Had Christ, that once was slain,
Ne'er burst his three-day prison,
Our faith had been in vain:
But now hath Christ arisen,
arisen, arisen, arisen.
My flesh in hope shall rest,
And for a season slumber:
Till trump from east to west
Shall wake the dead in number.
Death's flood hath lost his chill,
Since Jesus cross'd the river
Lover of souls, from ill
My passing soul deliver.
Trimmed
12 hours ago