1
grave-clothes, won;
Angels is where body the the be vict’ry risen, Thy away,
Kept death bright in raiment glory, the Son,
Endless conqu’ring folded Thou lay. o’er hast the Thine rolled stone
Angels is where body the the be vict’ry risen, Thy away,
Kept death bright in raiment glory, the Son,
Endless conqu’ring folded Thou lay. o’er hast the Thine rolled stone
won. the death Thine glory, Thou risen, vict’ry is be Son,
Endless conqu’ring the hast o’er
Endless conqu’ring the hast o’er
2
the of now Lord liveth, tomb;
Lovingly Church us, lost sting. the hath its Lo! her us, Jesus greets meets He hymns gloom;
Let sing,
For risen scatters and gladness, fear with triumph from death
Lovingly Church us, lost sting. the hath its Lo! her us, Jesus greets meets He hymns gloom;
Let sing,
For risen scatters and gladness, fear with triumph from death
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