I

Rise, O glorious orb of day,—

Christ no longer fills the grave,

He hath risen with power to save,—

Rise, and clear our night away.

II

Day, by seer and psalmist sung,

Gladdest day for earth and heaven,

For the Christ, Whom God had given,

Hath the power from hades wrung.

III

Clouds of darkness, bow the head,

Weep in raindrops in the night!

Sorrow now is chased from sight,

For the living Christ was dead.

IV

Heaven above, and earth below,—

Men and angels raise the strain,

Death could not the Christ retain,—

Let your praises endless flow.

V

Ah, the spear, the thorns, the nails,

Ah, the dying and the death,

And the slow expiring breath,—

But the suffering Christ prevails.

VI

Where can death bestow his prey?

Can he hold the Lord of life?

Better he had shirked the strife,

Than have lost his power for aye.

VII

Rise, O glorious orb of day!

Christ no longer fills the grave,

He hath risen with power to save,—

Rise, and clear our night away.