Awake, sad heart, whom sorrows drown,

Lift up thine eyes, and cease to mourn,

Unfold thy forehead’s settled frown;

Thy Saviour and thy joys return.

Awake, sad drooping heart, awake!

No more lament, and pine, and cry:

His death thou ever dost partake,

Partake at last His victory.

Arise; if thou dost not withstand,

Christ’s resurrection thine may be:

O, break not from the gracious Hand,

Which, as it rises, raises thee.

Cheer’d by thy Saviour’s sorrows rise;

He grieved, that thou may’st cease to grieve:

Dry with His burial-clothes thine eyes;

He died Himself, that thou may’st live!