English Hymns

At the Lamb's high feast we sing praise to our victorious King, who has washed us in the tide flowing from his pierced side; praise we him whose love divine gives his sacred blood for wine, gives his body for the feast, Christ the victim, Christ the priest. Where the paschal blood is poured, death's dark angel sheathes his sword; Israel's hosts triumphant go through the wave that drowns the foe. Praise we Christ, whose blood was shed, paschal victim, paschal bread; with sincerity and love eat we manna from above. Mighty victim from the sky, pow'rs of hell beneath thee lie; death is conquered in the fight, thou hast brought us life and light: hymns of glory and of praise, risen Lord, to thee we raise; holy Father, praise to thee, with the Spirit, ever be.