Resurrection
By the grave I watch and weep,
Watch and weep in anxious pain,
Watch my Love’s exhausted sleep,
Weep lest he should wake again—
With heart and mind and soul I dread
The resurrection of the dead.
Is it a hard law of Thine
That no third day’s dawn shall break
Without bringing life divine
To the dead? O for the sake
Of all Thy thorns and lilies won,
Let my weary one sleep on!
Rough was life for my poor love,
Fierce the whirlwind, wild the wave,
It was mercy from above
That he found this quiet grave,
And there laid him down to rest,
In the earth’s consoling breast.
He is desperate for sleep.
He would never choose to wake,
And I watch by him and weep,
Trembling lest the light should break
In the merciful dark skies,
And torment his heavy eyes.
Though I know that Christ the Lord
On the third day rose again,
And I fear it is His word
That the crucified should reign,
Yet to Him I humbly pray
That my love shall sleep for aye.
For he never was a king,
Never sat upon a throne,
He was just a trodden thing,
Stumbling in the dark alone.
Let him rest—Eternal bliss?—
He is far too tired for this.
Life is for the gods and great,
Resurrection for the strong,
Joy for those of high estate,
Slaves would rather slumber long.
Let no angel from above
Wake the sleeping slave—my love.
By the grave I watch and weep,
Watch and weep in anxious pain,
Watch my love’s exhausted sleep,
Weep lest he should wake again—
With heart and mind and soul I dread
The resurrection of the dead.