The Strife Is O'er, The Battle Done

1. Al- le- lu- ia, Al- le- lu- ia, Al- le- lu- ia. The strife is o'er, the bat- tle done; The tri- umph of the Lord is won; O Let the song of praise be sung: Al- le- lu- ia! Al- le- lu- ia, Al- le- lu- ia, Al- le- lu- ia.

2. The pow'rs of death have done their worst; and Je- sus hath His foes dis- persed; Let shouts of praise and joy out- burst: Al- le- lu- ia!

3. On that third morn He rose a- gain In glor- ious ma- jes- ty to reign; O let us swell the joy- ful strain. Al- le- lu- ia!

4. He closed the yawn- ing gates of hell; The bars from heav'ns high por- tals fell; Let songs of joy His tri- umphs tell. Al- le- lu- ia!

5. Lord, by the stripes which wound- ed Thee, From death's dread sting Thy ser- vants free, That we may live, and sing to Thee. Al- le- lu- ia!