Come, see the place where Je­sus lay,
And hear an­gel­ic watch­ers say,
He lives, who once was slain:
Why seek the Liv­ing midst the dead?
Remember how the Sav­ior said
That He would rise again.

O joy­ful sound! O glo­ri­ous hour,
When by His own al­migh­ty pow­er
He rose and left the grave!
Now let our songs His tri­umph tell,
Who burst the bands of death and hell,
And ev­er lives to save.

The first be­got­ten of the dead,
For us He rose, our glo­ri­ous head,
Immortal life to bring;
What though the saints like Him shall die,
They share their lead­er’s vic­to­ry,
And tri­umph with their king.

Why should His peo­ple now be sad?
None have such rea­son to be glad,
Ad re­con­ciled to God.
Jesus, the migh­ty Sav­ior, lives,
To them eter­nal life He gives,
The pur­chase of His blood.

No more they trem­ble at the grave,
For Je­sus will their spir­its save,
And raise their slum­ber­ing dust
O ris­en Lord, in Thee we live,
To Thee our ran­somed souls we give,
To Thee our bo­dies trust.

Ye ran­somed, let your praise re­sound,
And in your mas­ter’s work abound,
Steadfast, im­mov­able;
Be sure your la­bor’s not in vain;
Your bo­dies shall be raised again,
No more cor­rup­ti­ble.