That Eastertide with Joy Was Bright

That East­er­tide with joy was bright

The sun shone out with fair­er light

When

to their long­ing eyes re­stored

The glad apos­tles saw their Lord.

He bade them see His hands

His side

Where yet the glo­ri­ous wounds ab­ide;

The to­kens true which made it plain

Their Lord in­deed was ris­en again.

Jesus

the King of gen­tle­ness

Do Thou Thy­self our hearts pos­sess

That we may give Thee all our days

The tri­bute of our grate­ful praise.

O Lord of all

with us ab­ide

In this our joy­ful Eas­ter­tide;

From ev­ery wea­pon death can wield

Thine own re­deemed for­ev­er shield.

All praise be Thine

O ris­en Lord

From death to end­less life re­stored;

All praise to God the Fa­ther be

And Ho­ly Ghost eter­nal­ly.