Morning red, morn­ing red,
Now the sha­dows all are fled;
Now the Sab­bath’s cloud­less glo­ry,
Tells anew the won­drous sto­ry,
Christ is ris­en from the dead.

All around, all around,
Solemn si­lence reigned pro­found;
When, with blaze and sud­den thun­der,
Angels burst the tomb asun­der,
And the Sav­ior was un­bound.

Forth He came! Forth He came!
Robed in white, ce­les­ti­al flame!
Mary, at the emp­ty pri­son,
Knew not her Re­deem­er ris­en
Till He called her by her name.

Morning red! Morn­ing red!
Christ is ris­en from the dead!
Still He walk­eth in the gar­den,
Speaking words of love and par­don.
Though the crown is on His head.