Classic Poem

Hail , sacred morn! when from the tomb
The Son of God arose,
" Captivity he captive led, "
And triumphed o'er his foes.

Rejoice! oh, holy church, rejoice!
Awake thy noblest strain,
Put off thy weeds of mourning now, —
The Saviour lives again.

Oh! let thy loud hosannahs reach
The portals of the sky,
While angels tune their gentle harps
And heavenly choirs reply.

" Glory to God; he ever lives
To plead our cause above,
He, — he is worthy to receive
All honor, power, and love.

" Hail, mighty king! we at thy feet
Our grateful homage pay;
Accept the humble sacrifice,
And wash our sins away.

" Then at the resurrection morn,
When the last trump shall sound,
May we awake to life anew,
And with thy saints be found. "