We were not by when JESUS came;

But round us, far and near,

We see His trophies, and His name

In choral echoes hear.

In a fair ground our lot is cast,

As in the solemn week that past,

While some might doubt, but all adored,

Ere the whole widow'd Church had seen her risen LORD.

Then, gliding through th' unopening door,

Smooth without step or sound,

'Peace to your souls,' He said--no more--

They own Him, kneeling round.

Eye, ear, and hand, and loving heart,

Body and soul in every part,

Successive made His witnesses that hour,

Cease not in all the world to shew His saving power.

--Is there, on earth, a spirit frail,

Who fears to take their word,

Scarce daring, through the twilight pale,

To think he sees the LORD?

With eyes too tremblingly awake

To bear with dimness for His sake?

Read and confess the Hand Divine

That drew thy likeness here so true in every line.

For all thy rankling doubts so sore,

Love thou thy Saviour still,

Him for thy LORD and GOD adore,

And ever do His will.

Though vexing thoughts may seem to last,

Let not thy soul be quite o'ercast,--

Soon will He shew thee all His wounds, and say,

'Long have I known thy name--know thou My face alway.'