This joyful Eastertide
Away with sin and sorrow!
My Love, the Crucified,
Hath sprung to life this morrow.
Had Christ, that once was slain,
Ne’er burst his three-day prison,
Our faith had been in vain:
But now hath Christ arisen.
My flesh in hope shall rest,
And for a season slumber:
Till trump from east to west
Shall wake the dead in number.
Death’s flood hath lost his chill,
Since Jesus cross’d the river:
Lover of souls, from ill
My passing soul deliver.
Light For Our Dark Times 