1 The day draws on with golden light,
Glad songs go echoing through the height,
The broad earth lifts an answering cheer,
And hell makes moan with wailing fear.
2 For lo, he comes, the mighty King,
To take from death his power and sting,
To trample down his gloomy reign,
And break the weary prisoner’s chain.
3 Enclosed he lay in rocky cell,
With guard of armèd sentinel;
But thence returning, strong and free,
He comes in might of victory.
4 The sad Apostles mourn him slain,
Nor hope to see their Lord again,
When, to their very eyes restored,
They look upon the risen Lord.
5 *Those wounds before their eyes displayed
They see in heavenly light arrayed,
And what they see they testify
In open witness fearlessly.
6 *O Christ, the King of gentleness,
Thy people's hearts do thou possess,
That we may render all our days
An endless sacrifice of praise.
7 Maker of all, to thee we pray,
Fulfil in us thy joy today;
When death assails, grant, Lord, that we
May share thy Paschal victory.
8 To thee who, dead, again dost live,
All glory, Lord, thy people give,
All glory to the Father be
And Spirit blest, eternally. Amen.
Source: The New English Hymnal #100a