The Lamb's high banquet we await
in snow-white robes of royal state;
and now, the Red Sea's channel passed,
to Christ, our Prince, we sing at last.
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.
That paschal eve God's arm was bared;
the devastating angel spared:
by strength of hand our hosts went free
from Pharoah's ruthless tyranny.
Now Christ our Passover is slain,
the Lamb of God that knows no stain;
the true oblation offered here,
our own unleavened Bread sincere.
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.
For Christ, arising from the dead,
from conquered hell victorious sped;
he thrusts the tyrant down to chains,
and paradise for man regains.
Maker of all, to thee we pray,
fulfill in us thy joy today;
when death assails, grant, Lord, that we
may share thy paschal victory.
To thee who, dead, again dost live,
all glory, Lord, thy people give;
all glory, as is every meet,
to Father and to Paraclete. |