Come Ye Faithful, Raise the Strain
Come, ye faithful, raise the strain of triumphant gladness;
God hath
brought forth Israel into joy from sadness;
Loosed from Pharaoh’s bitter yoke
Jacob’s sons and daughters,
Led them with unmoistened foot through the Red
Sea waters.
’Tis the spring of souls today; Christ has burst His prison,
And from
three days’ sleep in death as a sun hath risen;
All the winter of our sins,
long and dark, is flying
From His light, to Whom we give laud and praise
undying.
Now the queen of seasons, bright with the day of splendor,
With the royal
feast of feasts, comes its joy to render;
Comes to glad Jerusalem, who with
true affection
Welcomes in unwearied strains Jesus’ resurrection.
Neither might the gates of death, nor the tomb’s dark portal,
Nor the
watchers, nor the seal hold Thee as a mortal;
But today amidst the twelve
Thou didst stand, bestowing
That Thy peace which evermore passeth human
knowing.
“Alleluia!” now we cry to our King immortal,
Who, triumphant, burst the
bars of the tomb’s dark portal;
“Alleluia!” with the Son, God the Father
praising,
“Alleluia!” yet again to the Spirit raising.
