C. Wordsworth, 1862. 232 L. M. Our Lord is risen from the dead, Our Jesus is gone up on high; The powers of hell are captive led, The Victor rises to the sky. 2. There His triumphal chariot waits, And angels chant the solemn lay: “Lift up your heads, ye heavenly gates! Ye everlasting doors, give way!” 3. Loose all your bars of massy light And wide unfold the radiant scene. He claims these mansions as His right; Receive the King of Glory in. 4. Who is the King of Glory, who? The Lord, who all His foes o’ercame, The world, sin, death, and hell o’erthrew; And Jesus is the Conqueror’s name. 5. Lo! His triumphal chariot waits, And angels chant the solemn lay: “Lift up your heads, ye heavenly gates; Ye everlasting doors, give way!” 6. Who is the King of Glory, who? The Lord, of glorious power possest, The King of saints and angels too, God over all, forever blest! Charles Wesley, 1741. 233 7, 6, 7, 6, 6, 7, 7, 6 Lo, God to heaven ascendeth! Throughout its regions vast With shouts triumphant blendeth The trumpet’s thrilling blast: Sing praise to Christ the Lord! Sing praise with exultation, King of each heathen nation, The God of hosts adored! 2. With joy is heaven resounding, Christ’s glad return to see; Behold the saints surrounding The Lord who set them free. Bright myriads, thronging, come; The cherub band rejoices, And loud seraphic voices Welcome Messiah home. 3. No more the way is hidden Since Christ, our Head, arose; No more to man forbidden The road that heav’nward goes. Our Lord is gone before; But here He will not leave us, In heaven He’ll soon receive us; He opens wide the door. 4. Christ is our place preparing; To heaven we, too, shall rise And, joys angelic sharing, Be where our Treasure lies. There may each heart be found, Where Jesus Christ has entered; There let our hopes be centered, Our course still heavenward bound! 5. May we, His servants, thither In heart and mind ascend; And let us sing together: “We seek Thee, Christ, our Friend, Thee, God’s anointed Son, Our Life, and Way to heaven, To whom all power is given, Our Joy, and Hope, and Crown!” 6. Farewell with all thy treasures, O world, to falsehood giv’n! Thy dross gives no true pleasures; We seek the joys of heav’n. The Savior is our Prize; He comforts us in sadness And fills our hearts with gladness; To Him we lift our eyes.