Mary to the Sav­ior’s tomb
Hasted at the ear­ly dawn;
Spice she brought, and rich per­fume,
But the Lord she loved had gone;
For a while she lin­ger­ing stood,
Filled with sor­row and sur­prise,
Trembling, while a crys­tal flood
Issued from her weep­ing eye.

But her sor­row quick­ly fled
When she heard His wel­come voice;
Christ had ris­en from the dead—
Now He bids her heart re­joice.
What a change His word can make,
Turning dark­ness in­to day!
Ye who weep for Je­sus’ sake,
He will wipe your tears away.

He who came to com­fort her,
When she thought her all was lost,
Will for your re­lief ap­pear,
Tho’ you now are tem­pest-tossed.
On His arm your bur­den cast;
On His love your thoughts em­ploy;
Weeping for a while may last,
But the morn­ing brings the joy.