Lauds in the Paschal Octave
Easter at Lauds –
Lights glitt’ring morn bedecks the sky,
Heaven thunders forth its victor cry,
The glad earth shouts its triumph high,
And groaning hell makes wild reply:
While he, the King of glorious might
Treads down death’s strength in death’s despite,
And trampling hell by victors right
Brings forth his sleeping Saints to light.
Fast barred beneath the stone of late
In watch and ward where soldiers wait,
Now shining in triumphant state,
He rises Victor from death’s gate.
Hell’s pains are loosed, and tears are fled;
Captivity is captive led;
The Angel, crowned with light, hath said,
The Lord is risen from the dead.
We pray thee, King with glory decked,
In this our Paschal joy, protect
From all that death would fain effect
Thy ransomed flock, thine own elect.
All praise be thine, O risen Lord,
From death to endless life restored;
All praise to God the Father be
And Holy Ghost eternally. Amen.
~Office Hymn in the Pascal Octave