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With Christ we share a mystic grave,
with Christ we buried lie;
but 'tis not in the darksome cave
by mournful Calvary.
The pure and bright baptismal flood
entombs our nature's stain;
new creatures from the cleansing wave
with Christ we rise again.
Thrice blest, if through this world of strife,
and lust and selfish care,
our resurrection mantle white
and undefiled we wear.
Thrice blest, if through the gate of death
glorious at last and free
we to our joyful rising pass,
O risen Lord, with thee.
And now to thy thrice holy Name,
the God whom we adore,
to Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
be glory evermore.