This joyful Eastertide
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 its chill,
Since Jesus crossed the river:
Lover of souls, from ill
My passing soul deliver.
Notes:
Charles Wood (1866-1926)Other songs by this Composer:
- Wood Charles
- Wood Charles
- Wood Charles
- Wood Charles
- Wood Charles
- Wood Charles