1 Come, ye faithful raise the strain
Of triumphant gladness;
God has brought his Israel
Into joy from sadness;
Loosed from Pharaoh's bitter yoke
Jacob's sons and daughters;
Led them with unmoistened foot
Through the Red Sea waters.
2 'Tis the spring of souls today;
Christ has burst the prison,
And from three days' sleep in death
As a sun has risen;
All the winter of our sins,
Long and dark is flying
From his light, to whom we give
Laud and praise undying.
3 Now the queen of seasons, bright
With the day of splendor,
With the royal feast of feasts,
Comes its joy to render;
Comes to gladen faithful hearts
Who with true affection
Welcomes in unwearied strains
Jesus' resurrection.
4 Neither could the gates of death,
Nor the tomb's dark portal,
Nor the watchers, nor the seal
Hold him as a mortal;
For today among the Twelve
Christ appeared bestowing
Lasting peace which evermore
Passes human knowing.
5 "Alleuia!" 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.