This joyful Eastertide,
away with care and sorrow!
My Love, the Crucified,
has sprung to life this morrow.
Refrain:
Had Christ, who 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 has lost its chill,
since Jesus crossed the river:
Lover of souls, from ill
my passing soul deliver.