Thurlow Weed - Come, ye faithful, raise the strain - текст песни (слова)

Come, ye faithful, raise the strain
 of triumphant gladness!
 God hath brought his Israel
 into joy from sadness:
 loosed from Pharaoh's bitter yoke
 Jacob's sons and daughters,
 led them with unmoistened foot
 through the Red Sea waters.
 
 'Tis the spring of souls today:
 Christ hath burst his prison,
 and from three days' sleep in death
 as a sun hath risen;
 all the winter of our sins,
 long and dark, is flying
 from his light, to whom we give
 laud and praise undying.
 
 Now the queen of seasons, bright
 with the day of splendor,
 with the royal feast of feasts,
 comes its joy to render;
 comes to glad Jerusalem,
 who with true affection
 welcomes in unwearied strains 
 Jesus' resurrection.
 
 Neither might the gates of death,
 nor the tomb's dark portal,
 nor the watchers, nor the seal
 hold thee as a mortal:
 but today amidst the twelve
 thou didst stand, bestowing
 that thy peace which evermore
 passeth human knowing.