Chant School

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Light's glittering morn bedecks the sky,

heaven thunders forth its victor cry,

the glad earth shouts its triumph high,

and groaning hell makes wild reply:

2 While he, the King of glorious might,

treads down death's strength in death's despite,

and trampling hell by victor's right,

brings forth his sleeping Saints to light.

3 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.

4 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.'

5 O Christ, the King who lovest to bless,

do thou our hearts and souls possess;

to thee our praise that we may pay,

to whom our laud is due for aye.]

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1. The Lamb's high banquet we await

in snow-white robes of royal state:

and now, the Red Sea's channel past,

to Christ our Prince we sing at last.

2. Upon the Altar of the Cross

His Body hath redeemed our loss:

and tasting of his roseate Blood,

our life is hid with Him in God.

3. That Paschal Eve God's arm was bared,

the devastating Angel spared:

by strength of hand our hosts went free

from Pharaoh's ruthless tyranny.

4. Now Christ, our Paschal Lamb, is slain,

the Lamb of God that knows no stain,

the true Oblation offered here,

our own unleavened Bread sincere.

5. O Thou, from whom hell's monarch flies,

O great, O very Sacrifice,

Thy captive people are set free,

and endless life restored in Thee.

6. For Christ, arising from the dead,

from conquered hell victorious sped,

and thrust the tyrant down to chains,

and Paradise for man regains.

7. 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.

8. To Thee who, dead, again dost live,

all glory Lord, Thy people give;

all glory, as is ever meet,

to Father and to Paraclete. Amen.

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I saw water flowing out of the Temple, from its right side, Alleluia:

And all to whom this water came were saved, And they shall say: Alleluia, Alleluia.

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O QUEEN of heaven rejoice! alleluia:

For He whom thou didst merit to bear, alleluia,

Hath arisen as he said, alleluia.

Pray for us to God, alleluia.

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Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle,[1]  With completed victory rife: And above the Cross's trophy  Tell the triumph of the strife: How the world's Redeemer conquer'd  By surrendering of His Life.

God his Maker, sorely grieving  That the first-made Adam fell, When he ate the fruit of sorrow,  Whose reward was death and hell, Noted then this Wood, the ruin  Of the ancient wood to quell.

For the work of our Salvation  Needs would have his order so, And the multiform deceiver's  Art by art would overthrow, And from thence would bring the med'cine  Whence the insult of the foe.

Wherefore, when the sacred fulness  Of th' appointed time was come, This world's Maker left His Father,  Sent the Heavenly Mansion from, And proceeded, God Incarnate,  Of the Virgin's Holy Womb.

Weeps the Infant in the manger  That in Bethlehem's stable stands; And His Limbs the Virgin Mother  Doth compose in swaddling bands, Meetly thus in linen folding  Of her God the feet and hands.

Thirty years among us dwelling,  His appointed time fulfill'd, Born for this, He meets his Passion,  For that this He freely will'd: On the Cross the Lamb is lifted,  Where His life-blood shall be spilled.

He endured the nails, the spitting,  Vinegar, and spear, and reed; From that Holy Body broken  Blood and water forth proceed: Earth, and stars, and sky, and ocean,  By that flood from stain are freed.

Faithful Cross! above all other,  One and only noble tree! None in foliage, none in blossom,  None in fruit thy peers may be: Sweetest Wood, and sweetest Iron!  Sweetest Weight is hung on thee.

Bend thy boughs, O Tree of Glory!  Thy relaxing sinews bend; For awhile the ancient rigour,  That thy birth bestowed, suspend; And the King of Heavenly Beauty  On thy bosom gently tend!

Thou alone wast counted worthy  This world's ransom to uphold; For a shipwrecked race preparing  Harbour, like the Ark of old; With the sacred Blood anointed  From the smitten Lamb that roll'd.[2]

To the Trinity be glory  Everlasting, as is meet: Equal to the Father, equal  To the Son, and Paraclete: Trinal Unity, Whose praises  All created things repeat. Amen.

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Link to MusicToday we learn a short doxology -- sung in Monasteries and the Eastern Rites of the Church -- dating back to the 4th century!

Thou art worthy of praise, thou art worthy of hymns, to Thee be glory: to God the Father and the Son with the Holy Ghost, world without end. Amen.