This joyful Eastertide, away with sin and sorrow! My Love, the Crucified, hath sprung to life this morrow. Refrain: Had Christ, that once was slain, ne'er burst his three-day prison, our faith had been in vain; but now is Christ arisen, arisen, arisen, arisen.
Death's flood hath lost its chill, since Jesus crossed the river: Lover of souls, from ill my passing soul deliver, Refrain
My flesh in hope shall rest, and for a season slumber, till trump from east to west shall wake the dead in number. Refrain