At the tomb where Christ hath been,
Weeping waits the Mag­da­lene;
With the two dis­ci­ples she
Wonders where the Lord can be.

Look they in: they see the bed
Where the Lord hath laid His head;
Where He slept so calm, so still,
Underneath His ho­ly hill.

Stooping down they see no more
Than the clothes which wrapped Him o’er,
Clothes which bound His feet, His brow,
Death’s white vest­ments, use­less now.

They de­part: but love and faith
Stronger are than sight, than death;
At the tomb where Christ hath been
Watching waits the Mag­da­lene.

He was here: then she will wait,
Watching ear­ly, watch­ing late;
Where her Je­sus last was seen
There will wait the Mag­da­lene.

Look once more, O Ma­ry! see,
Is it still the same to thee?
Clear the tears from off your sight—
Where was dark­ness, now is light!

Angel guards are sit­ting now
Clothed in rai­ment white as snow:
Shines their glo­ry through the shade
Where the form of Christ was laid.

He is ris­en! do not fear:
Your dear Lord ab­ides not here,
See the place (wipe tears away)
Where the sleep­ing Je­sus lay.

Turns she round: she sees Him stand
In the gar­den close at hand:
Mary! ’Tis His ac­cent now:
Master! It is Thou, ’tis Thou!