1 Come, ye faithful, raise the strain
Of triumphant gladness;
God hath brought His people forth
Into joy from sadness.
Now rejoice, Jerusalem,
And with true affection
Welcome in unwearied strains
2 'Tis the spring of souls today,
Christ hath burst His prison,
And from three days' sleep in death
As a sun hath risen.
All the winter of our sins,
Long and dark, is flying
From His light, to whom we give
Laud and praise undying.
3 "Alleluia!" now we cry
To our King Immortal,
Who, triumphant, burst the bars
Of the tomb's dark portal;
"Alleluia!" with the Son,
God the Father praising;
"Alleluia!" yet again
To the Spirit raising.
|First Line:||Come, ye faithful, raise the strain|
|Title:||Come, Ye Faithful, Raise the Strain|
|Translator:||John M. Neale|
|Topic:||Church: Militant & Trumphant|
|Name:||[Come, ye faithful, raise the strain]|
|Composer:||Arthur S. Sullivan|