1 Blest morning, whose young dawning rays
Beheld our rising God;
That saw him triumph o'er the dust,
And leave his dark abode!
2 In the cold prison of a tomb
The dead Redeemer lay;
'Till the revolving skies had brought
The third, th' appointed day.
3 Hell, and the grave, unite their force
To hold our God in vain;
The sleeping Conqueror arose,
And burst their feeble chain.
4 To thy great name, almighty Lord,
These sacred hours we pay;
And loud Hosannas shall proclaim
The triumph of the day.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Blest morning, whose young, dawning rays |
Title: | The Lord's Day; or, The Resurrection of Christ |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1786 |