Around Thy grave, Lord Jesus,
Thine empty grave, we stand,
With hearts all full of praises
To keep Thy blest command:
By faith, our soul’s rejoicing,
To trace Thy path of love
Through death’s dark, angry billows
Up to the throne above.
Thine empty grave, we stand,
With hearts all full of praises
To keep Thy blest command:
By faith, our soul’s rejoicing,
To trace Thy path of love
Through death’s dark, angry billows
Up to the throne above.
Lord Jesus, we remember
The travail of Thy soul,
When, in Thy love’s deep pity,
The waves did o’er Thee roll;
Baptized in death’s cold waters,
For us Thy blood was shed:
For us Thou, Lord of Glory,
Wast numbered with the dead.
Oh, Lord, Thou now art risen,
Thy travail all is o’er!
For sin Thou once hast suffered,
Thou liv’st to die no more;
Sin, death, and hell are vanquished
By Thee, the Church’s Head;
And lo! We share Thy triumphs,
Thou First-born from the dead.
Into Thy death baptized
We own with Thee we died;
With Thee, our life, we’re risen,
And in Thee glorified:
From sin, the world, and Satan,
We’re ransomed by Thy blood,
And now would walk as strangers,
Alive with Thee to God.