2 Thus low the Lord of life was brought;
Such wonders love can do:
Thus cold in death that bosom lay,
Which throbbed and bled for you.
3 But raise your eyes, and tune your songs,
The Saviour lives again:
Not all the bolts and bars of death
The Conqueror could detain.
4 High o'er the angelic bands he rears
His once dishonoured head;
And through unnumbered years he reigns,
Who dwelt among the dead.
5 With joy like his shall every saint
His vacant tomb survey;
Then rise with his ascending Lord
To realms of endless day.