Rise heart; thy Lord is risen. Sing his praise
Without delays
Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise
With him may'st rise;
That, as his death calcined thee to dust
His life may make thee gold, and much more, Just

Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part
With all thy art
The cross taught all wood to resound his name
Who bore the same
His stretched sinews taught all strings, what key
Is best to celebrate this most high day

Consort both heart and lute, and twist a song
Pleasant and long:
Or since all music is but three parts vied
And multiplied;
O let thy blessed Spirit bear a part
And make up our defects with his sweet art