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.
There His triumphal chariot waits,
And angels chant the solemn lay;
“Lift up your heads, you heavenly gates,”
Ye everlasting doors, give way.
2 A radiant cloud is now Thy seat,
And earth lies stretch’d beneath Thy feet;
Ten thousand thousands round Thee sing,
And share the triumph of their King.
The angel host enraptured waits:
“Lift up your heads, eternal gates!”
O God and Man! The Father’s throne
Is now for evermore Thine own.
3 Our Great High-Priest and Shepherd, Thou
Within the veil art entered now,
To offer there Thy precious blood
Once pour’d on earth , a cleansing flood.
And thence the Church, Thy chosen bride,
With countless gifts of grace supplied,
Thro’ all her members draws from Thee
Her hidden life of sanctity.