December 12

“And there was Mary Magdalene, and the other Mary, sitting over against the sepulchre.” Matt. 27: 61.

While upon the cross He hung,

The Marys near him stayed;
And when from the tree released,

Beheld where he was laid:
Fearless to the place they ran;

All their hope was buried there;
And, with grief and wonder, sat

Before the sepulchre.

Love it was detained them here,

And sacred was the spot;
Soon the scene revived their faith,

And memory ne’er forgot.
From the crowd I glad withdraw,

And with them, to muse I ‘m come;
And prefer, to Eden’s bliss,

One tear at such a tomb.

Here, within this grave, now sleeps

The best, the only Friend;
Here the lips of truth are sealed,

And mercy’s journeys end.
Here the light, the life of men

Is early quenched and dead — How deserveless now appear

All other tears I ‘ve shed.

Ah, how low his sacred head

Reposes here for me!
And how deep, though once so rich,

Is now his poverty!
Naught of earth, in life or death,

His own he ever knew:
Borrowed was his place of birth,

His grave was borrowed too.

But what terrors seize my frame!

A trembling shakes the ground;
And the door, though thrice secured,

Is now wide open found:
On the stone the angel sits,

And frowns the guards to flight;
Yet his looks and words to me

Speak safety and delight.

“He thou seekest is not here:
Come, view his lonely bed;
And with haste go tell his friends,

He ’s risen from the dead.”
As I go, himself I meet:

. “All hail,” he greeting cries;
” I have crushed sin, death, and hell,
And opened paradise.

“I ‘m alive for evermore:

And all that mourn with thee,
Like myself their Head, shall live

For evermore with me.”
‘T is enough — in every state

This truth my hope revives;
And should every comfort die,

I know my Saviour lives.