2 Jesus who is always near, Though too often unperceived, Came her drooping heart to cheer, Kindly asking why she grieved: Though at first she knew him not, When he called her by her name, She her heavy griefs forgot, For she found him still the same.
3 And her sorrows, quickly fled, When she heard his welcome voice; Christ had risen from the dead, Now he bids her heart rejoice: What a change his word can make— Turning darkness into day; You who weep for Jesus’ sake, He will wipe your tears away.
193 8s. He hath abolished death. 2 Tim. 1:10.
The angels that watched round the tomb Where low the Redeemer was laid, When deep in mortality’s gloom He hid for a season his head;
2 That vailed their fair face while he slept, And ceased their sweet harps to employ, Have witnessed his rising, and swept The chords with the triumphs of joy.
3 You saints, who once languished below, But long since have entered your rest, I pant to be glorified too, To lean on Immanuel’s breast.
4 The grave in which Jesus was laid Has buried my guilt and my fears; And while I contemplate its shade, The light of his presence appears.
5 O sweet is the season of rest, When life’s weary journey is done! The blush that spreads over its west, The last lingering ray of its sun!
6 Though dreary the empire of night, I soon shall emerge from its gloom, And see immortality’s light Arise on the shades of the tomb.
7 Then welcome the last rending sighs, When these aching heartstrings shall break, When death shall extinguish these eyes, And moisten with dew the pale cheek.
8 No terror the prospect begets, I am not mortality’s slave, The sunbeam of life as it sets, Paints a rainbow of peace on the grave.
194 8s. The darkness is passed, etc. 1 John 2:8.
Behold, the bright morning appears, And Jesus revives from the grave; His rising removes all our fears, And shows him almighty to save.
2 How strong were his tears and his cries, The worth of his blood, how divine! How perfect was his sacrifice, Who rose though he suffered for sin.
3 The man that was crownéd with thorns, The man that on Calvary died, The man that bore scourging and scorns, Whom sinners agreed to deride—
4 Now blesséd for ever is made, And life has rewarded his pain, Now glory has crownéd his head; Heaven sings of the Lamb that was slain.
3 Believing, we share in his joy; By faith, we partake in his rest; With this we can cheerfully die, For with him we hope to be blest.