Unvail thy bosom, faithful tomb;

Take this new treasure to thy trust,

And give these sacred relics room

To slumber in the silent dust.

2 Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear,

Invade thy bounds; no mortal woes

Can reach the peaceful sleeper here,

While angels watch the soft repose.

3 So Jesus slept; God’s dying Son

Passed through the grave, and blessed the bed:

Rest here, blest saint, till from his throne

The morning break, and pierce the shade.

4 Break from his throne, illustrious morn;

Attend, O earth, his sovereign word;

Restore thy trust; a glorious form

Shall then arise to meet the Lord.