Every Flower That Blossoms

Every flow­er that blos­soms fresh from mol­dy earth

Sings of re­sur­rect­ion

whis­pers of new birth;

Every plant that

dy­ing

seems to meet de­cay

Only waits with pa­tience for an Eas­ter day.

Seeds of pro­mise scat­tered ov­er all the land

Spring of life and beau­ty

guid­ed by God`s hand;

And our souls

more pre­cious than all earth be­side

Surely shall awak­en at some East­er-tide.

Then let hearts and voices East­er car­ols sing—

Then let al­le­lu­ias through the glad earth ring;

For our Christ has ris­en

and be­yond the grave

Over death and sor­row He is strong to save.