Lift All Hands with Endless Praise

An Easter Vigil Hymn

By Carl Sundell

(May be sung to the melody of America the Beautiful by Samuel A. Ward)

He walked upon the waters to the beat of drums above,
yet cold men in their frozen hearts denied his talk of love.
They lashed him in the heat of noon and struck his sacred face,
then nailed him to a wooden cross, intent on his disgrace.

“Father, forgive what they have done,” the broken Jesus cried.
“Into your hands my Spirit take,” and then … and then … he died.
The prophecy had ended now; no mocking Serpent stood
near mother Mary’s true son men had slain upon the wood.

As from the tomb’s black terror burst a mighty flash of light,
when from his grave the Sleeper rising ends eternal night.
Great heaven’s gate now opens wide; a thousand souls rush in.
The sleeping King has fully borne the weight of all our sin.

Old Eve and Adam stir to life, their ancient weeping shed,
as angels by the dozens come with garlands for Christ’s head.
Now let us thank the Father for the promise that he kept,
and lift all hands with endless praise for tears that Jesus wept.