Glory to God! The morn ap­point­ed breaks,
And earth awakes from all the woe­ful past;
For, with the morn, the Lord of life awakes,
And sin and death into the grave are cast.

Glory to God! The cross, with all its shame,
Now sheds its glo­ry o’er a ran­somed world;
For He who bore the bur­den of our blame,
With pierc­èd hands the foe to hell hath hurled.

Glory to God! Sing, ran­somed souls again,
And let your songs our glo­ri­ous vic­tor laud,
Who by His might hath snapped the ty­rant’s chain,
And set us free to rise with Him to God.

Darkness and night, fare­well! The morn is here;
Welcome! the light that ush­ers in the day;
Visions of joy be­fore our sight ap­pear,
And, like the clouds, our sor­rows melt away.

Great Son of God, im­mor­tal and re­nown­ed!
Brighter than morn the glo­ry on Thy brow;
Crowns must be won, and Thou are no­bly crown­ed,
For death is dead, and sin is van­quished now.