Christ My Song - 519
The Christ, the Son of God, hath died! - Jesus Christ our Lord
(Horatius Bonar/Johannes Thomas Rüegg)
Jesus Christ our Lord.
"Se nascens dedit socium,
convescens in edulium,
se moriens in pretium,
se regnans dat in premium." (Old Hymn)
1. The Christ, the Son of God, hath died!
In life, in death, our surety he;
within the tomb of rock he lay,
and with him in that grave were we.
2. The Christ, the Son of God, now lives!
Death could not hold him in its power;
he rose on the appointed morn,
and we were with him in that hour.
3. The Christ, the Son of God, hath left
this earth, and to the Father gone;
with him ascended we on high,
with him are we upon his throne.
4. The Christ, the Son of God, from heaven
looks down upon this evil earth;
and we with him are looking down,
waiting creation's second birth.
5. Our hearts are on the things above,
where he doth sit, and we with him;
heaven is around us with its light,
and earth is distant all and dim.
6. The time of reigning is not yet,
and yet we feel as it had come;
the pilgrim journey is not past,
and yet we feel as if at home.
7. Strange mixture of the low and high,
of strife and peace, of earth and heaven.
The cross and crown, the bright and dark, –
'tis night, 'tis noon; 'tis morn, 'tis even.
8. Still in the flesh we burdened groan;
our strength is small, our friends are few;
yet we are risen and glorified,
old things have passed, all things are new.
9. Our life is hid with Christ in God;
when he who is our life descends,
that hidden life shall be unveiled
in beauty that all thought transcends.
10. And we shall see him as he is,
and we shall know as we are known, –
his bride, his love, his undefiled,
the sharers of his endless throne.
11. The day when he, the Son of God,
once more upon this earth appears,
shall be the last of time's dark course,
the first of the eternal years.
12. The day when he, the living One,
in glory and in light shall come,
from every grave shall burst a song,
and death-sealed lips no more be dumb.
13. Where, where, O death, is now thy sting?
And where, O grave, thy victory?
Death has been swallowed up in life,
the grave in immortality.
Horatius Bonar, Hymns of Faith and Hope III, 1878, 86-88.