| |
| ’TWAS night! still night! | |
| A solemn silence hung upon the scene; | |
| The keen, bright stars shone with unclouded light, | |
| Calm and serene. | |
| |
| Hushed was the Tomb! | 5 |
| The heavy stone before its entrance lay: | |
| No light broke in upon its silent gloom, | |
| No starry ray. | |
| |
| The moonlight beamed; | |
| It hung above that garden, soft and clear, | 10 |
| Around the watchful guard its radiance gleamed | |
| From helm to spear. | |
| |
| The Tomb was sealed! | |
| The watch patrolled before its entrance lone; | |
| The bright night every passing step revealed; | 15 |
| None neared the stone. | |
| |
| Midnight had passed; | |
| The stars their lustrous shining had decreased; | |
| And day-break’s earliest light was hastening fast | |
| In the pale east. | 20 |
| |
| The morning star, | |
| Last in the silent Heaven, withdrew its ray, | |
| And the white dawn spreading its spectre light | |
| Foretold the day. | |
| |
| An earthquake’s shock | 25 |
| Just at the break of morning shook the ground, | |
| And echoed from that rent and trembling rock | |
| With startling sound. | |
| |
| The guards, amazed, | |
| Fell to the earth in wonder and affright; | 30 |
| And round the astonished spot in glory blazed | |
| A sudden Light. | |
| |
| An Angel there | |
| Descended from the tranquil sky; | |
| The glory of his presence filled the air | 35 |
| All-radiantly. | |
| |
| He rolled away | |
| From the still Sepulchre the massy stone; | |
| And, watching silent till the risen day, | |
| He sat thereon. | 40 |
| |
| His garments white, | |
| Shone like the snow in its unsullied sheen; | |
| His face was, like the lightning’s gleaming light | |
| Dazzlingly seen. | |
| |
| All, all around | 45 |
| Was silence, and suspense, and listening dread; | |
| The stirless watch lay prostrate on the ground, | |
| Hushed as the dead. | |
| |
| At break of day | |
| The Saviour burst that Cavern’s stillness deep, | 50 |
| Rising in conquest from Death’s shattered sway | |
| As from a sleep. | |
| |
| He rose in Power, | |
| In all the strength of Godhead shining bright, | |
| Fresh as that hallowed Morning’s dewy hour | 55 |
| Pure as its Light. | |
| |
| He rose as God, | |
| Rose as a mighty Victor strong to save, | |
| Breaking Death’s silent chain and unseen rod | |
| There in the Grave. | 60 |
| |
| He rose on high, | |
| While Angels hung around on soaring wing, | |
| Wresting from the dark Grave its victory, | |
| From Death its sting. | |
| |
