Come, ye faithful, raise the strain
    Of triumphant gladness;
God hath brought forth Israel
    Into joy from sadness;
Loosed from Pharaoh’s bitter yoke
    Jacob’s sons and daughters,
Led them with unmoistened foot
    Through the Red Sea waters.

’Tis the spring of souls today;
    Christ has burst his prison,
And from three days’ sleep in death
    As a sun hath risen;
All the winter of our sins,
    Long and dark, is flying
From his light, to whom we give
    Laud and praise undying.

Now the queen of seasons, bright
    With the day of splendor,
With the royal feast of feasts,
    Comes its joy to render;
Comes to glad Jerusalem,
    Who with true affection
Welcomes in unwearied strains
    Jesus’ resurrection.

Neither might the gates of death,
    Nor the tomb’s dark portal,
Nor the watchers, nor the seal
    Hold thee as a mortal;
But to-day amidst thine own
    Thou didst stand, bestowing
That thy peace which evermore
    Passeth human knowing.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

St. John of Damascus, 8th century
tr. J.M. Neale, 1853