The chains are rent, the dungeon's gloom
No more these active limbs confine.
I rise as from the dreary tomb,
Where long in prison I repined.

I mount—I fly—I haste away,
Buoyed, as it were, on angel's wings;
O home! O friends! O liberty!—
O God of strength, thy praise I'll sing.

Hosanna now in highest strains,
Glory to God and to the Lamb,
Hosanna to the king who reigns
In heaven and earth—the great I Am.