« IndietroContinua »
But the pains which He endured
Can no longer, death, appal us ;
But the gate of life immortal :
Then, alone to Jesus living,
Nought from us His love shall sever ;
Over all the world is given :
Finita jam sunt proelia,
Post fata mortis barbara
The powers of death have done their worst,
On that third morn He rose again
He closed the yawning gates of hell ;
Alleluia ! Lord, by the stripes which wounded Thee, From death's dread sting Thy servants free, That we may live, and sing to Thee !
ALLELUIA! Alleluia !
Hearts to heaven and voices raise ;
Sing to God a hymn of praise ;
For the world's salvation bled,
Now is risen from the dead.
Of the holy harvest field,
At His second coming yield;
Will their heads before Him wave,
From the furrows of the grave.
Shed upon us heavenly grace,
From the brightness of Thy face;
Here on earth may fruitful be,
And be ever, Lord, with Thee.
Glory be to God on high ;
Who has gained the victory;
Fount of love and sanctity;
II2 THJ "HE Head that once was crowned with thorns
Is crowned with glory now ;
The mighty Victor's brow.
Is His, is His by right,
And heaven's Eternal Light;
The Joy of all below,
And grants His Name to know.
With all its grace, is given :
Their joy the joy of heaven. They suffer with their Lord below,
They reign with Him above; Their profit and their joy to know
The mystery of His love.