HYMN LXXX. On the Resurrection

Hail thou happy Morn, so glorious! Come ye Saints, your Griefs give o'er, Sing how Jesus rose Victorious, By his own almighty Pow'r: Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah To the glorious Son of God.

Tell us Seraphs, ye that wonder'd, When ye saw the Lord arise; When ye saw him ascend yonder, What were then your Heav'nly Joys; Then 'twas Glory, &c. To the conquering King of Kings.

Countless Bands of Angels glorious, Cloath'd in bright aetherial blue; Straight the sound of Christ Victorious, From their silver Trumpets flew: Christ Triumphant, &c. &c. Rises Conqu'ror o'er the Tomb.

See! my Friends, is that the Saviour Who was crowned with the Thorns? Glorious Majesty and Power, Now his sacred Head adorns: Hallelujah, &c. &c. That dear Head no more shall bleed.

Is that he! who dy'd on Calv'ry? That was pierced with the Spear? Clad with countless Suns of Glory; See he rises through the Air: Hallelujah, &c. &c. Zion's Mourners now rejoice.

Was the Person then so sacred, Which the Jews so marr'd and spoil'd? Yes, ye Saints, we own his God-head, Though by some he's still revil'd. All Creation, &c. &c. Soon shall own him Lord of all.

Tremble, ye who him rejected, Lo! he breaks through yonder Cloud; Rise ye Saints, and shout Triumphant Victory through Jesus' Blood. Hark the Trumpet, &c. &c. Sounds the Resurrection Morn.