4

In vain the stone, the watch, the seal, Forbid an early rise

To him, who breaks the gates of hell, And opens paradise.

HYMN 110. P. M.

ALL is hush'd, the battle's o'er !
Darkness reigns in purple gore;
Each intelligence intent

Trembling waits the great event.
All are in suspènse-

Here I'll stay, nor wander hence,
Till the day spring from on high
Speaks, who gain'd the victory.

2

See, a gleam of light appears!
Combats now my hope and fears;
Now the heav'nly glory's come ;
O! who starts from yonder tomb,
Cover'd all with blood,

Pale and wounded? 'Tis my God!
'Tis the man, who conqu❜ring fell,
Dying, vanquish'd death and hell!

3

Heav'nly laurels crown his head !
Sin, and hell, and death are dead;
The old serpent's head is broke ;
Heav'n by violence is took.

Hail! thou conquʼring heart;

Thou my new creation art :

Hail! my flesh, and bone and blood; Hail! myself, redeem'd to God.

4

I in him, and he in me,
Perfect one in mystery ;

With him, where, and as he is,
Fully enter'd into bliss :
There shall I abide,
In my nature purify'd :

Here I enter perfect rest :

The Father's praise, his King and Priest.

HYMN 111. P. M.

CHRIST the Lord is ris'n to day,
Sons of men and angels say,

Raise your joys and triumphs high,
Sing, ye Heav'ns, and earth reply.

2

Love's redeeming work is done,
Fought the fight, the battle's won :
Lo! the sun's eclipse is o'er,
Lo! he sets in blood no more.

3

Vain the stone, the watch, the seal,
Christ hath burst the gates of hell :
Death in vain forbids his rise,
Christ hath open'd paradise.

4

Lives again our glorious King; "Where, O death, is now thy sting?” Once he dy'd our souls to save ; "Where's thy vict'ry, boasting grave?"

5

Soar we now where Christ has led,
Following our exalted Head :

Made like him, like him we rise,
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies.

6

What though once we perish'd all,
Partners of our parents' fall ;

Second life we now receive,
In our heav'nly Adam live.

7

Hail the Lord of earth and heav'n !
Praise to thee by both be giv'n !
Thee, we greet triumphant now,
Hail! the Resurrection-Thou.

HYMN 112. C. M.

PART FIRST.

AGAIN the Lord of life and light
Awakes the kindling ray;
Unseals the eyelids of the morn,
And pours increasing day.

2

O what a night was that which wrapp'd
The heathen world in gloom !
O what a sun which broke this day,
Triumphant from the tomb !

3

This day be grateful homage paid,
And loud hosannas sung;
Let gladness dwell in ev'ry heart,
And praise on ev'ry tongue.

4

Ten thousand diff'ring lips shall join
To hail this welcome morn,
Which scatter'd blessings from its wings,
To nations yet unborn.

5

Jesus, the Friend of human kind,
With strong compassion mov'd,
Descended, like a pitying God,
To save the souls he lov'd.

6

The pow'rs of darkness leagu'd in vain
To bind his soul in death;

He shook their kingdom when he fell,
With his expiring breath.

PART SECOND.

7

Our Saviour's conquʼring chariot wheels Ascend the lofty skies;

While broke, beneath his pow'rful cross, Death's iron sceptre lies.

8

Exalted high at God's right hand,

And Lord of all below,

Through him is pard'ning love dispens❜d, And boundless blessings flow.

9

And still for erring, guilty man,
A brother's pity flows;

And still his bleeding heart is touch'd
With mem❜ry of our woes.

10

To thee, my Saviour, and my King,
Glad homage let me give ;
And stand prepar'd like thee to die,
With thee that I may live.

HYMN 113. L. M.

IN Jesus who was crucify'd

Alone we glory and confide ;

Let ev'ry tongue with joy confess,

The Lord our strength and righteousness.

2

For us redemption to obtain,

The spotless Lamb of God was slain ;

Saints triumph in his glorious name,
Who by his death our foes o'ercame.

3

To banish all our griefs and fears,
For us the great High Priest appears;
Jesus that suffer'd in our stead,

For ever lives our cause to plead.

Behold, enthron'd at God's right hand,
Our powerful Intercessor stand!
The Father's reconciled face
Our joyful souls with rapture trace.

HYMN 114. C. M.

HOSANNA to the Prince of light,

That cloth'd himself in clay; Enter'd the iron gates of death, And tore the bars away.

2

Death is no more the king of dread,
Since our Immanuel rese;
He took the tyrant's sting away,
And spoil'd our hellish foes.

3

Raise your devotion, mortal tongues,
To reach his bless'd abode ;
Sweet be the accents of your songs
To our incarnate God.

4

Bright angels, strike your loudest strings, Your sweetest voices raise ;

Let heav'n, and all created things,

Sound our Immanuel's praise.