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o sons and daughters

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					 “O Sons and Daughters”
    Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.
Young men and maids rejoice and
               sing:
 The King of heaven, the glorious
               King
    This day from death rose
           triumphing.
             Alleluia!
    Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.
On Sunday morn by break of day,
  His dear disciples haste away
 Unto the tomb wherein he lay.
             Alleluia!
   Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.
 Nor Magdalene, nor Salome,
 Nor James’ mother now delay
To embalm the precious corpse
         straightway.
            Alleluia!
    Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.
An angel clothed in white they see
      When thither come,
       And thus spoke he:
  “The Lord is gone to Galilee.”
             Alleluia!
  Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.
The dear beloved apostle John
 Much swifter than Saint Peter
              run
And first arriv-ed at the tomb.
           Alleluia!
     Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.
While in a room the apostles were
In midst of them did Christ appear
And said, “Peace be upon all here.”
              Alleluia!
     Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.
On this most solemn feast let’s raise
  Our hearts to God in hymns of
               praise;
 And let us bless the Lord always.
              Alleluia!
     Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.
Our grateful thanks to God let’s give
 In humble manner while we live,
   For all the favours we receive.
               Alleluia!