You strode forth from the prison house of the grave
free and triumphant over sin, Satan, and death.
You, who as man of sorrows, was crowned with thorns,
are now Lord of life wreathed with glory.
Hail, Victor! Conqueror of death, hell, and all opposing might;
All my Lord's foes lay crushed in the dust.
Fill my wayward soul with a firm faith in that provision laid up in you;
Crucified and slain is the power of sin in me, and in your victory I triumph.
Adapted from Valley of Vision