y;
The heavens resound with anthems high;
The shining angels, as they speed,
Proclaim, "The Lord is risen indeed."

2 Vainly with rocks his tomb was barred
While Roman guards kept watch and ward;
Majestic from the spoiled tomb,
In pomp of triumph he has come!

3 When the amazed disciples heard,
Their hearts with speechless joy were stirred;
Their Lord's beloved face to see,
Eager they haste to Galilee.

4 His pierced hands to them he shows;
His face with love's own radiance glows;
They with the angel's message speed,
And shout, "The Lord is risen indeed!"

Latin Tr. by Mrs. E. Charles.

148 Harmony Grove. L.M.

_Christ the Unsetting Sun._ (320)

Hail! morning known among the blest,
Morning of hope, and joy, and love,
Of heavenly peace, and holy rest,
Pledge of the endless rest above.

2 Blest be the Father of our Lord,
Who from the dead hath brought his Son;
Hope to the lost was then restored,
And everlasting glory won.

3 Mercy looked down with smiling eye
When our Immanuel left the dead;
Faith marked his bright ascent on high,
And hope with gladness raised her head.

E. Wardlaw, 1814.

149 Baltzell. L.M.

_My Redeemer Lives._

I know that my Redeemer lives!
What comfort this sweet sentence gives;
He lives, he lives, who once was dead;
He lives, my ever-living Head.

2 He lives, to bless me with his love;
He lives, to plead for me above;
He lives, my hungry soul to feed;
He lives, to bless in time of need;

3 He lives, to grant me rich supply;
He lives, to guide me with his eye;
He lives, to comfort me when faint;
He lives, to hear my soul's complaint;

4 He lives, my kind, wise, heav'nly Friend;
He lives, and loves me to the end;
He lives, and while he lives I'll sing;
He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King.

5 He lives, all glory to his name!
He lives, my Savior still the same--
Oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives:
I know that my Redeemer lives.

Samuel Medley, 1789.

150 Dort. 6s & 4s.

_Glorious Conqueror._ (329)

Rise, glorious Conqueror, rise,
Into thy native skies,
Assume thy right;
And where, in many a fold,
The clouds are backward rolled;
Pass thro' these gates of gold,
And reign in light.

2 Victor o'er death and hell,
Cherubic legions swell
The radiant strain;
Praises all heav'n inspire;
Each angel sweeps his lyre,
And claps his wings of fire;
Thou Lamb, once slain.

3 Enter, incarnate God!