O PRAISE the risen Prince of Light, Who, clothed in human clay, Entered into the gates of death, And tore those bars away!
Death is no more the king of fear Since our Emmanuel rose; He took the tyrant’s sting away, And banished all its woes.
See how the Conqueror mounts aloft, And to His Father flies, With scars of honour in His flesh, And triumph in His eyes.
There our exalted Saviour reigns, And pours His blessings down; His triumph well rewards His pains, And bids Him wear the crown.
Angels and saints in wonder join, Their sweetest voices raise; Let Heaven above and earth below Sound our Emmanuel’s praise.
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748