at the lambs high feast

At the Lamb's high feast we sing praise to our victorious King,
who hath washed us in the tide flowing from his pierced side;
praise we him, whose love divine gives his sacred Blood for wine,
gives his Body for the feast, Christ the victim, Christ the priest.

Where the Paschal blood is poured, death's dark angel sheathes his sword;
Israel's hosts triumphant go through the wave that drowns the foe.
Praise we Christ, whose blood was shed, Paschal victim, Paschal bread;
with sincerity and love eat we manna from above.

Mighty victim from on high, hell's fierce powers beneath thee lie;
thou hast conquered in the fight, thou hast brought us life and light:
now no more can death appall, now no more the grave entrall;
thou hast opened paradise, and in thee thy saints shall rise.

Easter triumph, Easter joy, in alone can this destroy;
from sin's power do thou set free souls newborn, O Lord, in thee.
Hymns of glory and of praise, Risen Lord, to thee we raise;
Holy Father, praise to thee, with the Spirit, ever be.