Lo, He is dead! The suffering Christ is dead; Closed are His eyes, and bowèd is His head. | 35 Dead, too, in shame! Upon a Cross! and see, Thorns crown His brow, in cruel mockery. | O night, and woe! The sun and stars are gone; Dark is the world, and hope, despairing, flown. | Art Thou not Christ? The Christ of God, art Thou? How then this death? This awful silence, how? | O sin, and death, and victory of the grave! Canst Thou, in death, O Christ, Thy people save? | Weep in the night, O mortals at the grave; Dead is the Christ, and dead He cannot save. | |