| Thou sore-oppress'd, The Sabbath rest In yon still grave art keeping! All Thy labour now is done, Past is all Thy weeping! | | The strife is o'er, Nought hurts Thee more, 35 The heart at last hath slumber'd, That in conflict sore for us Bore our sins unnumber'd. | | Thou awful tomb, Once fill'd with gloom! How blessed and how holy Art thou now, since in the grave Slept the Saviour lowly! | | How calm and blest The dead now rest Who in the Lord departed! All their works do follow them, Yea, they sleep glad-hearted. | | O lead us Thou, To rest e'en now, With all who sorely anguish'd 'Neath the burden of their sins, Long in woe have languish'd. | | O Blessed Rock! Soon grant Thy flock To see Thy Sabbath morning! Strife and pain will all be past When that day is dawning. | |