Spring on the bell tower's chimes Rings out the glad tidings clear: It floats, it floats to all confines: "Christ is risen! He is here!"
Awake, O soul! Break free your chains Of tempting lies and empty show, Remember: for Christ's love remains, Immortal life to you bestow!
Understand, soul, you are divine, A dweller of the heavenly sphere, Not dust and ash your true design— Your Savior suffered torment here.
But why, O why do you descend Into such earthly, base constraint? You have no will to soar and wend, Unclean and weak, a fading saint,
So shamelessly mercenary grown, So thoughtlessly and basely small, So deaf to heights, so much alone, Far from all noble spirits' call.
The stench of rot allures your sense? The vileness of low passions' fire? Awake, soul! Spread your wings immense, Hasten to your Savior's spire!
Beyond the window spring rejoices, And hymns resound on every side. Spring sings, and all creation voices: "Christ is risen! Glorified!"
The waking world is filled with glee... And I, ashamed by spring's bright song, Whisper: "Have mercy, Lord, on me, And wash my sinful soul from wrong!"
