Thine is the glory, Risen, conqu'ring Son;
Endless is the vict'ry Thou o'er death hast won.
Angels in bright raiment rolled the stone away,
Kept the folded grave-clothes
Where Thy body lay.
Thine is the glory, Risen, conqu'ring Son;
Endless is the vict'ry
Thou o'er death hast won. Amen.
Lo! Jesus meets us, Risen, from the tomb;
Lovingly He greets us, Scatters fear and gloom;
Let His church with gladness
Hymns of triumph sing,
For her Lord now liveth;
Death hath lost its sting.
Thine is the glory, Risen, conqu'ring Son;
Endless is the vict'ry
Thou o'er death hast won. Amen.
