Words: (cir­ca 340-397); trans­lat­ed from La­tin to Eng­lish by (1828-1896); ap­peared in Hymn­al of the Meth­od­ist Epis­co­pal Church with Tunes (New York: Ea­ton & Mains, 1878).

Music: Low­ry, (1820-1895).

The morning kindles all the sky,
The heavens resound with anthems high,
The shining angels as they speed,
Proclaim, “The Lord is risen indeed!”

Vainly with rocks His tomb was barred,
While Roman guards kept watch and ward;
Majestic from the spoilèd tomb,
In pomp of triumph, He has come!

When the amazed disciples heard,
Their hearts with speechless joy were stirred;
Their Lord’s belovèd face to see,
Eager they haste to Galilee.

His piercèd hands to them He shows,
His face with love’s own radiance glows;
They with the angels’ message speed,
And shout, “The Lord is risen indeed!”

O Christ, thou King compassionate!
Our hearts possess, on Thee we wait:
Help us to render praises due,
To Thee the endless ages through!