The King is dead, long live the King
Who rises from His grave with us,
And from us all hosannas ring
For Him who’s raised from earthly dust–
And even dust by Him redeemed
As Eden breathes His Spirit’s air
For earth is not what it had seemed
But transformed to a garden fair.
Our Paradise by Him reclaimed
As Devil howls in his defeat,
For Christ as King by Father named,
And we fall at His pierced feet.
But now He says to us “Arise,
For you’re restored to Father’s will;
I claim you as my risen prize
And say to earth’s storms, ‘Peace, be still!’”
PROCLAIMING TRUTH! 