2 The powers of death have done their worst, 4 He closed the yawning gates of hell, But Christ their legions hath dispersed; Let shouts of holy joy outburst,

Alleluia!

3 The three sad days are quickly sped,
He rises glorious from the dead;
All glory to our risen Head!
Alleluia!

The bars from heav'n's high portals fell;
Let hymns of praise His triumphs tell.

Alleluia!

5 Lord, by the stripes which wounded Thee, From death's dread sting Thy servants free, That we may live and sing to Thee,

Alleluia!

Anon. Latin. Tr. F. Pott. 1861.

27

DIX. 7s. 61.

Arr. from C. KÖCHER. (1786-1872.)

4

mor tal praise, For the love that crowns our days;

All to Thee, our God, we owe, Source whence all our blessings flow.

2 All the plenty summer pours;
Autumn's rich o'erflowing stores;
Flocks that whiten all the plain;
Yellow sheaves of ripened grain :
Lord, for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.

3 Peace, prosperity, and health,
Private bliss and public health,
Knowledge with its glad'ning streams,
Pure religion's holier beams:
Lord, for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.

4 As Thy prospering hand hath blest,
May we give Thee of our best;
And by deeds of kindly love
For Thy mercies grateful prove;
Singing thus through all our days,
Praise to God, immortal praise.

Mrs. A. L. Barbauld. 1733

Alt. & Ab.