He Arose


“He is risen,” said the angel to the women,
When they came to see Him sleeping in the cave;
Jesus burst the mighty bars of death asunder,
And arose to reign triumphant from the grave.

He arose, my Savior,
He arose, my Savior,
He arose, my Savior,
Triumphant from the grave.

He is risen, surely death is now abolished:
Grave, where is thy vict’ry? Death, where is thy sting?
Jesus flashes light into the darkened valley;
Swell the mighty chorus, men and angels sing.

He is risen, let the nations hear the music,
Let the gospel truth reach every distant plain;
Let the tidings roll that every guilty captive
May be fully free and help to praise His name.

He is risen, hence the fear of that grim monster
Is forever banished to the shades of night;
And the grave and death have lost their wretched terror
While we live on earth or take our upward flight.