At the Lamb's high feast we sing Praise to our victorious King, Who hath washed us in the tide Flowing from His piercèd side. Praise we Him whose love divine Gives the guests His Blood for wine, Gives His Body for the feast, Love the victim, love the priest. Where the Paschal blood is poured, Death's dark Angel sheathes his sword; Israel's hosts triumphant go Through the wave that drowns the foe. Christ, the Lamb whose Blood was shed, Paschal victim, Paschal bread; With sincerity and love Eat we manna from above. Mighty Victim from the sky, Powers of hell beneath Thee lie; Death is conquered in the fight; Thou hast brought us life and light. Now Thy banner Thou dost wave; Vanquished Satan and the grave; Angels join His praise to tell— See o'erthrown the prince of hell. Paschal triumph, Paschal joy, Only sin can this destroy; From the death of sin set free, Souls re-born, dear Lord, in Thee. Hymns of glory, songs of praise, Father, unto Thee we raise; Risen Lord, all praise to Thee, Ever with the Spirit be.