O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? 1 Corinthians 15:55
He fell, the Prince of Glory fell
Beneath the mighty stroke of hell;
But when the strife was done,
And all the foe’s devices spent,
He grandly rose, their fetters rent,
And lasting triumph won.
Light breaks upon the tomb,
For Christ dispels its gloom;
O Christian, brush your tears away,
For Christ is ris’n today.
He knew the shadow of the tomb,
He knew its pain, its grief, its gloom,
For He was ’mong the dead;
But now its gloom is swept away,
And death and hell yield up their prey,
We follow as He led.
O mighty death, where is thy sting,
Since thou didst meet the heav’nly King,
Whom angels all adore?
Lo, He is monarch of the sky,
The glory of that realm on high,