EASTER HYMNS.
HYMN I.
THE TWO MARYS.
Oh dark day of sorrow,
Amazement and pain;
When the promise was blighted
The given was ta’en!
When the master no longer
A refuge should prove;
And evil was stronger
Than mercy and love!
Oh dark day of sorrow,
Abasement and dread,
When the Master beloved
Was one with the dead!
We sate in our anguish
Afar off to see,
For we surely believed not
This sorrow could be!
But the trust of our spirits
Was all overthrown;
And we wept, in our anguish,
Astonished, alone!
At even they laid him
With aloes and myrrh,
In fine linen wound, in
A new sepulchre.
There, there will we seek him:
Will wash him with care;
Anoint him with spices:
And mourn for him there.
Oh strangest of sorrow!
Oh vision of fear!
New grief is around us—
The Lord is not here!
HYMN II.
THE ANGEL.
Women, why shrink ye
With wonder and dread?—
Seek not the living
Where slumbers the dead!
Weep not, nor tremble;
And be not dismayed;
The Lord hath arisen!
See where he was laid!
The grave-clothes, behold them;
The spices; the bier;
The napkin that bound him;
But he is not here!
Death could not hold him;
The grave is a prison
That keeps not the living;
The Christ has arisen!
HYMN III.
THE LORD JESUS.
Why are ye troubled?
Why weep ye and grieve?
What the prophets have written
Why slowly believe?
’Tis I, be not doubtful!
Why ponder ye so?
Behold in my body
The marks of my woe!
The willing hath suffered;
The chosen been slain;
The end is accomplished!
Behold me again!
Death has been conquered—
The grave has been riven—
For sin a remission
Hath freely been given!
Fearless in spirit,
Yet meek as the dove,
Go preach to the nations
This gospel of love.
For the might of the mighty
Shall o’er you be cast;
And I will be with you,
My friends, to the last.
I go to the Father,
But I will prepare
Your mansions of glory,
And welcome you there.
There life never-ending;
There bliss that endures;
There love never changing,
My friends, shall be yours!
But the hour is accomplished!
My children, we sever—
But be ye not troubled,
I am with you forever!
HYMN IV.
THE ELEVEN.
The Lord is ascending!—
Rich welcomes to give him:
See, angels descending!—
The heavens receive him!
See, angels, archangels
Bend down to adore!—
The Lord hath ascended,
We see him no more!
The Master is taken;
The friend hath departed;
Yet we are not forsaken,
Nor desolate-hearted!
The Master is taken;
The holy, the kind;
But the joy of his presence,
Remaineth behind!
Our hearts burned within us
To hear but the word
Which he spake, ere our spirits
Acknowledged the Lord!
The Lord hath ascended!
Our hope is secure,
We trusted not lightly;—
The promise is sure;
The Lord hath ascended;
And we his true-hearted,
Go forth with rejoicing,
Though he hath departed!