1 Ruler of the hosts of light,
Death hath yielded to Thy might;
And Thy Blood hath marked a road
Which will lead us back to God.

2 From Thy dwelling-place above,
From Thy Father’s throne of love,
With Thy look of mercy bless
Those without Thee comfortless.

3 Bitter were Thy throes on earth,
Giving to the Church her birth,
From the spear-wound opening wide
In Thine own life-giving side.

4 Now in glory Thou dost reign,
Won by all Thy toil and pain;
Thence the promised Spirit send,
While our prayers to Thee ascend.

5 Jesus, praise to Thee be given,
With the Father high in heaven:
Holy Spirit, praise to Thee
Now and through eternity.