The Morn Had Spread Her Crimson Rays

The morn had spread her crimson rays,
When rang the skies with shouts of praise;
Earth joined the joyful hymn to swell,
That brought despair to vanquished hell.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

He comes victorious from the grave,
Who died our sinful souls to save;
He brings with Him to light of day
The saints who long imprisoned lay.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Let hymns of joy to grief succeed:
We know that Christ is ris’n indeed;
We hear His white-robed angel’s voice,
And in our risen Lord rejoice.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

With Christ we died, with Christ we rose,
When at the font His name we chose;
Oh, nevermore let sin deface
Our souls enrobed in paschal grace.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

John G. Hacker, Catholic Hymnal (New York: Schwartz, Kirwin & Fauss, 1920).

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