Thine Be the Glory

Thine is the glory, risen, conqu'ring Son; Endless is the victory, Thou o'er death hast won; Angels in bright raiment rolled the stone away, Kept the folded grave clothes where Thy body lay. Thine be the glory, risen conqu'ring Son, Endless is the vict'ry, Thou o'er death hast won. Lo! Jesus meets us, risen from the tomb; Lovingly He greets us, scatters fear and gloom; Let the church with gladness, hymns of triumph sing; For her Lord now liveth, death hath lost its sting. Thine be the glory, risen conqu'ring Son, Endless is the vict'ry, Thou o'er death hast won. No more we doubt Thee, glorious Prince of life; Life is naught without Thee; aid us in our strife; Make us more than conqu'rors, through Thy deathless love: Bring us safe through Jordan to Thy home above. Thine be the glory, risen conqu'ring Son, Endless is the vict'ry, Thou o'er death hast won.