| Tristes errant ApostoliDe Christi acerbo funere,
 Quern morte crudelissima
 Servi necarant impii.
Sermone verax AngelusMulieribus prædixerat:
 Mox ore Christus gaudium
 Gregi feret fidelium.
Ad anxios ApostolosCurrunt statim dum nuntiæ,
 Illæ micantis obvia
 Christi tenent vestigia.
Galilææ ad alta montium Se conferunt Apostoli, flock
 Jesuque, voti compotes,
 Almo beantur lumine.
Ut sis perenne mentibusPaschale Jesu gaudium,
 A morte dira criminum
 Vitæ renatos libera.
Deo Patri sit gloria,Et Filio, qui a mortuis
 Surrexit, ac Paraclito,
 In sempiterna sæcula.
 | While Christ’s disciples, grieving, sad,Their Master’s painful death deplore,
 Whom faithless servants’ cruel hands,
 Had bathed in His own crimson gore;
Quick from the happy realms above,An Angel comes on joyful wing,
 And to the women tells the joy
 That to His flock their Lord will bring.
As they with eager steps make haste,Their joyous message to repeat,
 Their Master’s glorious form they see,
 And falling clasp His sacred feet.
Cheered by this tale, His faithful flockThe Galilean mount ascend,
 And there with loving awe behold
 Their heart’s sole wish, their truest friend.
That Thou mayst be our Paschal joyThrough happy, never-ending years,
 Thine own poor children, Jesu, free
 From sin’s sad death with all its feats.
To God the Father, and the Son,Who rose from death, glad praise repeat;
 Let equal praise be ever sung
 To God the Holy Paraclete.
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