1 Blest Morning, whose first dawning Rays
Beheld our rising God,
That saw him triumph o'er the Dust,
And leave his dark Abode.

2 In the cold Prison of a Tomb,
The dead Redeemer lay,
Till the revolving Skies had brought
The Third, th’ appointed Day.

3 Hell and the Grave unite their Force
To hold our God in vain,
The sleeping Conqueror arose,
And burst their feeble Chain.

4 To thy great Name, Almighty Lord,
These sacred Hours we pay,
And loud Hosannas shall proclaim
The Triumphs of the Day.

[5 Salvation and immortal Praise
To our victorious King;
Let Heav’n, and Earth, and Rocks and Seas,
With glad Hosannas ring.]