1 Our Lord is risen from the dead;
Our Jesus is gone up on high;
The powers of hell are captive led,
Dragg'd to the portals of the sky.
2 There His triumphal chariot waits
And angels chant the solemn lay:
Lift up your heads, ye heavenly gates,
Ye everlasting doors, give way.
3 Loose all your bars of massy light,
And wide unfold the radiant scene;
He claims those mansions as His right,
Receive the King of Glory in.
4 Who is the King of Glory, who?
The Lord that all His foes o'ercame,
The world, sin, death, and hell o'erthrew;
And Jesus is the Conqueror's name.
5 Lo! His triumphal chariot waits,
And angels chant the solemn lay:
Lift up your heads, ye heavenly gates,
Ye everlasting doors, give way.
6 Who is the King of Glory, who?
The Lord, of glorious power possess'd,
The King of saints and angels too,
God over all, forever bless'd.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Our Lord is risen from the dead |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1871 |