I

What wonder wakes a sleeping world,

And gives the morn her crown?

Death from usurped dominion hurled,

By death is trodden down.

II

And slaves in fettered bondage cast,

Their glorious Victor hail,

For lo! the reign of death is past,

The grave and hades quail.

III

And night is gone, and morn is here,

And clouds no longer frown;

For death that filled the soul with fear,

By death is trodden down.

IV

O Christ, Immortal from the tomb!

To Thee our songs arise—

Thou, Who hast filled our dismal gloom

With light of Paradise.

V

And Thou shalt wear a glorious crown,

Who wore the crown of thorns,

Since death by death is trodden down,

This glorious Morn of morns.

VI

Let earth and sky, and all who dwell

In hades' dark abode,

With cheerful voice the chorus swell,

Of praise to Christ our God.

VII

Awake, my soul! to praise arise,

And give The Christ His crown,

Who mounts Immortal to the skies—

For death is trodden down.