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XIII

7,8,7,8

Hail the morn, with gladness crowned;

Morn of morns, O glad and glorious!

When the Lord of Life, renowned,

Brake the bands of death, victorious.

Hades gazed in dread surprise

As the light the darkness sundered,

Prisoners raised their weary eyes

Lit with hope, and mutely wondered.

Wounded was the Victor's brow,

Where the cruel thorns distressed it;

But the conqueror's laurel now,

Winding, on His forehead rested.

Hail! The Man from death arisen;

Hail! The Christ a victor glorious,

Thou hast broken hades' prison,

Jesus, Son of Man, victorious.

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