How calm and beautiful the morn

That gilds the sacred tomb

Where once the Crucified was borne,

And vailed in midnight gloom!

Oh! weep no more the Saviour slain;

The Lord is risen—he lives again.

2 Ye mourning saints! dry every tear

For your departed Lord;

“Behold the place—he is not here;”

The tomb is all unbarred:

The gates of death were closed in vain,

The Lord is risen—he lives again.

3 Now cheerful to the house of prayer

Your early footsteps bend,

The Saviour will himself be there,

Your advocate and friend:

Once by the law your hopes were slain,

But now in Christ ye live again.

4 How tranquil now the rising day!

’Tis Jesus still appears,

A risen Lord to chase away

Your unbelieving fears:

O! weep no more your comforts slain;

The Lord is risen—he lives again.

5 And when the shades of evening fall,

When life’s last hour draws nigh—

If Jesus shine upon the soul,

How blissful then to die:

Since he has risen who once was slain,

Ye die in Christ to live again.