It happened on a springtime morn

Bounded by skies all blue and still

And olive trees all hushed and gray,

They led One up a skull-shaped hill,

Followed by a crowd, whose piercing cry was, "Crucify!"

It happened on a springtime morn,

They nailed a Man upon a tree,

Whose head was circled with sharp thorns;

Lifted Him high that all might see

His heaving breath, His agony, His awful death.

It happened on a spring day,

The air was cut, by one sharp cry;

Then lightning! Thunder! Crack on crack, the sky was black!

It happened on a spring day,

They tombed a Man, the crowd had fled, sealed it and set a watch that way

  to flout His words and prove Him dead,

That He Himself, He could not save from the grave.

It happened on a springtime morn,

A tremor shook the paling gloom,

A bright light tore the door away,

Life came a victor from the tomb.

Love cannot die, nor faith betray,

Christ arose on a springtime day.