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"Lift up your heads, ye heaven- ly gates; Ye ever-last- ing doors,give way!" A-men.

2 "Loose all your bars of massy light,
And wide unfold the ethereal scene;
He claims these mansions as his right;
Receive the King of glory in!"
"Who is the King of glory? Who?"

"The Lord, that all our foes o'ercame; The world, sin, death, and hell o'erthrew; And Jesus is the Conqueror's name."

3 Lo, his triumphal chariot waits, And angels chant the solemn lay: "Lift up your heads, ye heavenly gates; Ye everlasting doors, give way!" "Who is the King of glory? Who?" "The Lord, of glorious power possessed; The King of saints and angels too; God over all, forever blest!"

CHARLES WESLEY

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And short the do- min - ion of death and the grave; He burst from the fet

ters of

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160 HYMN OF JOY 8s. 75. D.

From LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN

1. Sing with all the sons of glo- ry, Sing the res - ur - rec-tion song!Death and sor-row,

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earth's dark story, To the former days belong:All around the clouds are breaking, Soon the storms of

time shall cease, In God's likeness,man a-wak-ing, Knows the ev - er - last-ing peace. A - MEN.

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1. Rise, glorious Conqueror, rise Into thy na-tive skies; As-sume thy right; And where in

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many a fold The clouds are backward rolled, Pass through those gates of gold,And reign in light. A - MEN.

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1. Hail the day that sees Him rise, Ravished from our wish-ful eyes! Christ, a-while to

mor-tals given, Re-as-cends his na-tive heaven, Re - ascends his na tive heaven. A-MEN.

There the pompous triumph waits:
Lift your heads, eternal gates;
Wide unfold the radiant scene;
Take the King of glory in!

3 Circled round with angel powers,
Their triumphant Lord and ours,
Conqueror over death and sin,
Take the King of glory in!

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4 Him though highest heaven receives,
Still he loves the earth he leaves;
Though returning to his throne,
Still he calls mankind his own.

5 Saviour, parted from our sight,
High above yon azure height,
Grant our hearts may thither rise,
Following thee beyond the skies.

CHARLES WESLEY

163 ST. KEVIN

7s. 6s.

. D.

ARTHUR S. SULLIVAN

1. Come, ye faith-ful, raise the strain Of tri-umph-ant glad - ness!

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God hath brought his

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Jacob's sons and daughters, Led them with unmoistened foot Through the Red Sea waters.A - MEN.

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