The Morning Kindles All the Sky

The morn­ing kin­dles all the sky

The heav­ens re­sound with an­thems high

The shin­ing an­gels as they speed

Proclaim

The Lord is ris­en in­deed!

Vainly with rocks His tomb was barred

While Ro­man guards kept watch and ward;

Majestic from the spoil­èd tomb

In pomp of tri­umph

He has come!

When the am­azed dis­ci­ples heard

Their hearts with speech­less joy were stirred;

Their Lord’s be­lov­èd face to see

Eager they haste to Ga­li­lee.

His pierc­èd hands to them He shows

His face with love’s own ra­di­ance glows;

They with the an­gels’ mes­sage speed

And shout

The Lord is ris­en in­deed!

O Christ

thou King com­pas­sion­ate!

Our hearts pos­sess

on Thee we wait:

Help us to ren­der prais­es due

To Thee the end­less ag­es through!