Risen, He Lives Again
Come, all ye faith-ful, joy-ful and tri-um-phant.
Fold-ed the grave clothes; an-gels stand ex-ul-tant.
Come and a-dore him! Christ the Lord is ri-sen!
Ri-sen, he lives a-gain.
Ba-nish the doubts, di-spel the cloud of ter-ror.
They, dis-il-lu-sioned, now con-fess the er-ror
of dis-ap-point-ment and their fear-ful hi-ding.
Ri-sen, he lives a-gain.
Sing choirs of an-gels, sing in ex-ul-ta-tion.
Run with the wo-men's glad ex-hil-a-ra-tion.
Run with th' a-pos-tles' new ex-hu-be-ra-tion.
Ri-sen, he lives a-gain.
Yea, Lord, we greet thee, ris'n this hap-py mor-ning.
Death can-not hold him! Come, be-hold his glo-ry.
Come and a-dore him! Christ The Lord is ri-sen!
Ri-sen, he lives a-gain.
jwl 2014
quoting John F. Wade "O Come, All Ye Faithful" (1743),
translated by Frederick Oakeley (1841)
tune: SHADES MOUNTAIN, K. Lee Scott (1987)
Fold-ed the grave clothes; an-gels stand ex-ul-tant.
Come and a-dore him! Christ the Lord is ri-sen!
Ri-sen, he lives a-gain.
Ba-nish the doubts, di-spel the cloud of ter-ror.
They, dis-il-lu-sioned, now con-fess the er-ror
of dis-ap-point-ment and their fear-ful hi-ding.
Ri-sen, he lives a-gain.
Sing choirs of an-gels, sing in ex-ul-ta-tion.
Run with the wo-men's glad ex-hil-a-ra-tion.
Run with th' a-pos-tles' new ex-hu-be-ra-tion.
Ri-sen, he lives a-gain.
Yea, Lord, we greet thee, ris'n this hap-py mor-ning.
Death can-not hold him! Come, be-hold his glo-ry.
Come and a-dore him! Christ The Lord is ri-sen!
Ri-sen, he lives a-gain.
jwl 2014
quoting John F. Wade "O Come, All Ye Faithful" (1743),
translated by Frederick Oakeley (1841)
tune: SHADES MOUNTAIN, K. Lee Scott (1987)
