At Easter Morn the Lark, Ascending

At East­er morn the lark

as­cend­ing

Loud car­oled forth her mer­ry lay

To Heav’ns high dome her swift flight wend­ing

To greet with praise the new­born day.

And as she car­oled

thus re­sound­ed

From field and grove glad na­ture’s voice:

Awake! let joy be now un­bound­ed

Our Lord is ris­en

let all re­joice!

Awake! pour forth your streams

ye fount­ains!

And praise the Lord with glad­some heart;

Awake! and join the chor­us

mount­ains!

Let ev­ery tree and plant take part.

Ye vio­lets in the mea­dows hid­ing

Ye flow­er­ets all

with per­fumed breath

Proclaim aloud the joy­ous tid­ings

Love hath o’er­come the pow­er of death.

Awake! all ye who sloth­ful lang­uish

Weighed down by wint­ry grief and care

Oppressed by mourn­ing

filled with ang­uish

Rouse ye from sleep—would ye des­pair?

Ye mourn­ers

of this life so wea­ry—

Dreaming

per­chance

of days long gone

Awake no long­er sad and drea­ry

The world

all na­ture is new-born!

Then wel­come all with ac­cla­ma­tion

This sav­ing health the Lord doth bring;

Free par­don and a full sal­va­tion

Is ut­tered to us by the spring.

Almighty pow­er new life hath giv­en

Each twig

once dead

doth know the dawn;

Almighty pow­er the tomb hath riv­en—

Awake! It is the East­er morn!