We lack the gift of laughter; Faith sits all pale and glum, Hope dozes on a rafter, and Love is stricken dumb Come, Christ, into our drabness, tell us that matchless jest of life and resurrection, of life and resurrection, your sweetest and your best. We know the trick of tumbling, red noses and redder face; by virtues of our bumbling ours is the jester's case. Come, Christ, come down immortal, teach us that matchless jest of life and resurrection, of life and resurrection, your sweetest and your best. You joined our sad profession, made good our foolishness, brought clowning into fashion, put on our joker's dress. Come, Christ, come holy laughter, to share that matchless jest of life and resurrection, of life and resurrection, your sweetest and your best. Upon a foolish cross, Lord, you hung to make us mirth; but there you conquered loss, Lord, old death became new birth. Come everlasting joy; Christ, confirm that matchless jest of life and resurrection, of life and resurrection, your sweetest and your best.