• Cœna Domini, Ar­thur S. Sul­li­van, in Church Hymns, 1874 (MI­DI, score)
• Ellers, Ed­ward J. Hop­kins, 1869 (MI­DI, score)
• Lammas, Ar­thur H. Brown, 1868 (MI­DI, score)
• Morecambe, Fred­er­ick C. At­kin­son, 1870 (MI­DI, score)
• The Sac­red Heart, J. St. O. Dykes (MI­DI, score)
• Sancti Ve­ni­te, John B. Dykes, in Hymns An­cient and Mo­dern, 1875 (MI­DI, score)

The day of resurrection! Earth, tell it out abroad;
The Passover of gladness, the Passover of God.
From death to life eternal, from earth unto the sky,
Our Christ hath brought us over, with hymns of victory.

Our hearts be pure from evil, that we may see aright
The Lord in rays eternal of resurrection light;
And listening to His accents, may hear, so calm and plain,
His own “All hail!” and, hearing, may raise the victor strain.

Now let the heavens be joyful! Let earth the song begin!
Let the round world keep triumph, and all that is therein!
Let all things seen and unseen their notes in gladness blend,
For Christ the Lord hath risen, our joy that hath no end.

Into the dim earth’s lowest parts descending,
And bursting by Thy might the infernal chain
That bound the prisoners, Thou, at three days’ ending,
As Jonah from the whale, hast risen again.

Thou brakest not the seal, Thy surety’s token,
Arising from the tomb Who left’st in birth
The portals of virginity unbroken,
Opening the gates of Heaven to sons of earth.

Thou, Sacrifice ineffable and living,
Didst to the Father by Thyself atone
As God eternal: resurrection giving
To Adam, general parent, by Thine own.

Let us rise in early morning,
And, instead of ointments, bring
Hymns of praises to our Master,
And His Resurrection sing:
We shall see the Sun of Justice
Ris’n with healing on His wing,
Ris’n with healing on His wing.

Thy unbounded loving-kindness,
They that groaned in Hades’ chain,
Prisoners, from afar beholding,
Hasten to the light again
And to that eternal Pascha
Wove the dance and raised the strain,
Wove the dance and raised the strain.

Go ye forth, His saints, to meet Him!
Go with lamps in every hand!
From the sepulcher He riseth:
Ready for the Bridegroom stand:
And the Pascha of salvation
Hail, with His triumphant band,
Hail, with His triumphant band.

Those eternal bowers, man hath never trod,
Those unfading flowers round the throne of God:
Who may hope to gain them after weary fight?
Who at length attain them, clad in robes of white?

He who wakes from slumber at the Spirit’s voice,
Daring here to number things unseen his choice:
He whose one oblation is a life of love,
Knit in God’s salvation to the blest above.

Shame upon you, legions of the heav’nly King,
Citizens of regions past imagining!
What! with pipe and tabor dream away the light,
When He bids you labor, when He tells you, “Fight”?

Jesus, Lord of glory, as we breast the tide,
Whisper Thou the story of the other side;
Where the saints are casting crowns before Thy feet,
Safe for everlasting, in Thyself complete.

The hymn for conquering martyrs raise,
The victor innocents we praise,
Whom in their woe earth cast away,
But Heav’n with joy received today;
Whose angels see the Father’s face
World without end, and hymn His grace;
And while they chant unceasing lays,
The hymn for conquering martyrs raise.

A voice from Ramah was there sent,
A voice of weeping and lament,
When Rachel mourned the children’s care
Whom for the tyrant’s sword she bare.
Triumphal is their glory now,
Whom earthly torments could not bow,
What time, both far and near that went,
A voice from Ramah there was sent.

Fear not, O little flock and blest,
The lion that your life opprest!
To heavenly pastures ever new
The heavenly Shepherd leadeth you;
Who, dwelling now on Zion’s hill,
The Lamb’s dear footsteps follow still;
By tyrant there no more distrest,
Fear not, O little flock and blest.

And every tear is wiped away
By your dear Father’s hands for ay;
Death hath no power to hurt you more,
Whose own is life’s eternal store.
Who sow their seed, and sowing weep,
In everlasting joy shall reap,
What time they shine in heavenly day,
And every tear is wiped away.

O city blest o’er all the earth,
Who gloriest in the Savior’s birth,
Who are His earliest martyrs dear,
By kindred and by triumph here;
None from henceforth may call thee small,
Of rival towns thou passest all:
In whom our Monarch had His birth,
O city blest o’er all the earth!

1. A Hymn for Martyrs sweetly sing;
  For Innocents your praises bring;
Of whom in tears was earth bereaved,
  Whom heaven with songs of joy received;

2. Whose Angels see the Father's face
  World without end, and hymn His grace;
And, while they praise their glorious King,
  A hymn for Martyrs sweetly sing. 

3. A voice from Ramah was there sent,
  A voice of weeping and lament,
While Rachel mourned her children sore,
  Whom for the tyrant's sword she bore.

4. After brief taste of earthly woe
  Eternal triumph now they know;
For whom, by cruel torments rent,
  A voice from Ramah was there sent. 

5. And every tear is wiped away
  By your dear Father's hands for aye:
Death hath no power to hurt you more;
  Your own is life's eternal shore.

6. And all who, good seed bearing, weep,
  In everlasting joy shall reap,
What time they shine in heavenly day,
  And every tear is wiped away.

Thou hallowed chosen morn of praise,
That best and greatest shinest;
Fair Easter, queen of all the days,
Of seasons, best, divinest!
Christ rose from death; and we adore
Forever and forevermore.

Come, let us taste the vine’s new fruit,
For heav’nly joy preparing;
Today the branches with the root
In resurrection sharing:
Whom as true God our hymns adore
Forever and forevermore.

Rise, Zion, rise! and looking forth,
Behold thy children round thee!
From east and west, from south and north,
Thy scattered sons have found thee;
And in thy bosom Christ adore
Forever and for evermore.

O Father, O co-equal Son,
O co-eternal Spirit,
In persons Three, in Godhead One,
And One in power and merit;
In Thee baptized, we Thee adore
Forever and for evermore.

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.

The day of resurrection! Earth, tell it out abroad;
The Passover of gladness, the Passover of God.
From death to life eternal, from earth unto the sky,
Our Christ hath brought us over, with hymns of victory.

Our hearts be pure from evil, that we may see aright
The Lord in rays eternal of resurrection light;
And listening to His accents, may hear, so calm and plain,
His own “All hail!” and, hearing, may raise the victor strain.

Now let the heavens be joyful! Let earth the song begin!
Let the round world keep triumph, and all that is therein!
Let all things seen and unseen their notes in gladness blend,
For Christ the Lord hath risen, our joy that hath no end.

Then praise we God the Father, And praise we Christ His Son,
With them the Holy Spirit, Eternal Three in One;
'Till all the ransomed number fall down before the throne,
And honor, pow'r and glory ascribe to God alone!

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.

THE FATHER’S SOLE BEGOTTEN SON

Thomas B. Pollock (1836-1896)

Words: Un­known au­thor, be­tween the 10th & 13th Cen­tu­ries (A Pat­re Un­i­gen­i­tus); trans­lat­ed from La­tin to Eng­lish by Thom­as B. Poll­ock in Hymns An­cient and Mo­dern (HAM), 1889, and re­cast by the com­pil­ers of HAM in 1904. Music: Trin­i­ty Col­lege, John B. Dykes (1823-1876) (MI­DI, score).

John B. Dykes (1823-1876)