Christ risen after death oppressed,
Thou glory ever splendid be.
Above the heavens still Thou see,
Our sloth in this our worldly rest.
Why should Thou care if we forget
Thy Self, with better things to do?
Distracted always we pursue
our pleasures, and despair regret.
Thine love is perfect—true and free,
Incarnate Son of Father Good.
Redeem us still through sacred wood,
The cross from which we cry to Thee.