Come, ye faithful, raise the strain (John of Damascus)

151 St. Kevin. 7. 6. 7. 6. D.

1 Come, ye faithful, raise the strain
   Of triumphant gladness;
   God hath brought His people forth
   Into joy from sadness.
   Now rejoice, Jerusalem,
   and with true affection
   Welcome in unwearied strains
   Jesus' resurrection.

2 'Tis the spring of souls today;
   Christ hath burst His prison,
   From the frost and gloom of death
   Light and life have risen.
   All the winter of our sins,
   Long and dark, is flying
   From His light, to whom we give
   Thanks and praise undying.

3 "Alleluia!" now we cry
   To our King Immortal,
   Who, triumphant, burst the bars
   Of the tomb’s dark portal;
   "Alleluia!" with the Son,
   God the Father praising:
   "Alleluia!" yet again
   To the Spirit raising.
                        John of Damascus 8th century
                        Tr. by John M. Neale
                        The Methodist Hymnal 1939 edition

<idle musing>
As is usual with these ancient hymns, multiple versions abound. For this particular one hymnary.org chose Christian Worship: Hymnal as its base text and it's verses are significantly different, with five verses instead of three. Actually, I prefer this one over the Methodist Hymnal version:

1 Come, you faithful, raise the strain
   of triumphant gladness!
   God has brought his Israel
   into joy from sadness,
   loosed from Pharaoh's bitter yoke
   Jacob's sons and daughters,
   led them with unmoistened foot
   through the Red Sea waters.

2 See the spring of souls today;
   Christ has burst his prison,
   and from three days' sleep in death
   as a sun hath risen;
   all the winter of our sins,
   long and dark, is flying
   from his light, to whom we give
   laud and praise undying.

3 Now the queen of seasons, bright
   with the day of splendor,
   with the royal feast of feasts,
   comes its joy to render;
   comes to gladden faithful hearts
   which with true affection
   welcome in unwearied strains
   Jesus' resurrection!

4 For today among his own
   Christ appeared, bestowing
   blessed peace, which evermore
   passes human knowing.
   Neither could the gates of death
   nor the tomb's dark portal
   nor the watchers nor the seal
   hold him as a mortal.

5 "Alleluia!" Now we cry
   to our King immortal,
   who, triumphant, burst the bars
   of the tomb's dark portal.
   Come, you faithful, raise the strain
   of triumphant gladness!
   God has brought his Israel
   into joy from sadness!

</idle musing>