Kingo’s Easter Hymn

Like the golden sun ascending

In the darkly clouded sky

And on earth its glory spending

Until clouds and darkness fly,

So my Jesus from the grave,

From death’s dark, abysmal cave,

Rose triumphant Easter morning,

Brighter than the sun returning.

Thanks, O thanks, to Thee arisen

Lord and God Immanuel,

That the foe could not imprison

Thee within his hell-dark cell.

Thanks that Thou didst meet our foe

And his kingdom overthrow.

Jubilant my spirit raises

New Thy never ending praises.

Sin and death and every arrow

Satan hence may point at me

Fall now broken at the narrow

Tomb that saw Thy victory;

There Thou didst them all destroy

Giving me the cup of joy

That Thou glorious resurrection

Wrought my pardon and protection.

Thou wilt hence to life awake me

By Thy resurrection power;

Death may wound and overtake me,

Worms my flesh and bones devour,

But I face the threat of death

With the sure and joyful faith

That its fearful reign was ended

When Thy might its portal rended.

Blessed Jesus, let the Spirit

So imbue my heart with grace

That I walk by Thy blest merit

And no more the way retrace

To the vile and miry pit

Where I lay condemned, unfit,

Till redeemed to life victorious

By Thy resurrection glorious.

By Thomas Kingo (trans. J.C. Aaberg)

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