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Verse 1

The morning purples all the sky,
The air with praises rings;
Defeated hell stands sullen by,
The world exulting sings.

Verse 2

While he, the King all strong to save,
Rends the dark doors away,
And through the breaches of the grave
Strides forth into the day.

Verse 3

Death’s captive, in his gloomy prison
Past fettered he has lain;
But he has mastered death, is risen,
And death wears now the chain.

Verse 4

The shining angels cry, “Away
With grief; no spices bring;
Not tears, but songs, this joyful day,
Should greet the rising King!”

Verse 1

See, the Conqueror mounts in triumph,
See the King in royal state,
Riding on the clouds, his chariot,
To his heavenly palace gate!
Hark! the choirs of angel voices
Joyful hallelujahs sing,
And the portals high are lifted
To receive their heavenly King.

Verse 2

Who is this that comes in glory,
With the trump of jubilee?
Lord of battles, God of armies,
He has gained the victory;
He, who on the cross did suffer,
He, who from the grave arose,
He has vanquished sin and Satan,
He by death has spoiled his foes.

Verse 3

Thou hast raised our human nature,
On the clouds to God’s right hand;
There we sit in heavenly places,
There with thee in glory stand;
Jesus reigns, adored by angels;
Man with God is on the throne;
Mighty Lord! in thine ascension,
We by faith behold our own.

Verse 1

It is not death to die,--
To leave this weary road,
And, midst the brotherhood on high,
To be at home with God.

Verse 2

It is not death to close
The eye long dimmed by tears,
And wake, in glorious repose
To spend eternal years.

Verse 3

It is not death to fling
Aside this sinful dust,
And rise, on strong exulting wing,
To live among the just.

Verse 4

Jesus, thou Prince of life!
Thy chosen cannot die;
Like thee, they conquer in the strife,
To reign with thee on high.

Verse 1

I would not live alway; I ask not to stay
Where storm after storm rises dark o’er the way;
The few cloudy mornings that dawn on us here
Are enough for life’s woes, full enough for its cheer.

Verse 2

I would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb!
Since Jesus has lain there, I dread not its gloom;
There sweet be my rest till he bid me arise,
To hail him in triumph descending the skies.

Verse 3

Who, who would live alway, away from his God,
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode,
Where the rivers of pleasure flow o’er the bright plains,
And the noontide of glory eternally reigns;

Verse 4

Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet,
Their Savior and brethren transported to greet;
While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll,
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul?