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Ye choirs of new Jerusalem,
your sweetest notes employ,
the paschal victory to hymn
in strains of holy joy.
How Judah's Lion burst his chains,
and crushed the serpent's head;
and brought with him, from death's domains
the long-imprisoned dead.
From hell's devouring jaws the prey
alone our leader bore;
his ransomed hosts pursue their way
where he has gone before.
Triumphant in his glory now
his sceptre ruleth all;
earth, heaven and hell before him bow
and at his footstool fall.
While joyful thus his praise we sing,
his mercy we implore,
into his palace bright to bring
and keep us evermore.
All glory to the Father be,
all glory to the Son,
all glory, Holy Ghost to thee,
while endless ages run.
More recent version including work by John Mason Neale: