Alleluia! Christ is ris’n to­day,
From the tomb in the gar­den where­in He lay;
Shining an­gels raise their shout on high,
And on earth we ex­ult­ing­ly make re­ply:
Alleluia, al­le­luia, al­le­luia, amen.
Nature, too, that thro’ long drea­ry gloom,
Lay em­balmed in the shroud of her win­try tomb,
Rises now to meet her ris­ing Lord,
And in my­ri­ad ec­ho re­peats the word:

Refrain

Alleluia, al­le­luia,
Alleluia, amen.

See the stream­let burst its icy chain!
Leaping out in­to sun­light, it seeks the plain,
And its joy in li­quid tones it tells
To the rocks and the woods and the wind­ing dells:
Alleluia, al­le­luia, al­le­luia, amen.
Giant pines, whose broad, up­reach­ing arms
Bore the frosts and the snows of the north­ern storms,
To the bal­my breez­es blow­ing now
Give a mur­mur­ing whis­per on ev­ery bough.

Refrain

Little birds, that flew so far away,
Now re­turn with a sweet, mer­ry, roun­de­lay;
Through the sha­dy grove, in soft re­frain,
Lo, the voice of the tur­tle is heard again.
Alleluia, al­le­luia, al­le­luia, amen.
In the old church tow­er the swal­lows build,
And their nests with the ten­der­est young are filled;
And they join the chant­ing when they hear
Both the or­gan and choir swell­ing loud and clear:

Refrain

Now the prim­rose greets the daf­fo­dil,
And the dai­sy is wink­ing on ev­ery hill,
And the pan­sy drinks the light of day,
And the breath of the vio­let seems to say:
Alleluia, al­le­luia, al­le­luia, amen.
Now the Rose of Sha­ron op­ens wide,
On the sun­shiny banks of the mount­ain side;
And the li­ly of the val­ley blooms,
Filling ev­ery vale with its rich per­fumes:

Refrain

While the fields are clothed in beau­ty rare,
Shall the al­tar of Je­su be cold and bare?
Shall the Church no lov­ing to­ken show
That the Ris­en above is to rise be­low?
Alleluia, al­le­luia, al­le­luia, amen.
Round the al­tar let bright flow’rs be seen,
With the fresh-bud­ding branch­es of ev­er­green;
Let the earth, with us, her in­cense bring,
And the trees of the for­est re­joice and sing:

Refrain