Upon the sixth day of the week
The first man had his birth,
In God’s own image bright and pure
Created from the earth.

Upon the sixth day of the week
The second Ad­am died,
And by the second Ad­am’s death
Man was revivified.

Upon the seventh day of the week
God from His works did rest,
And on that holy Sabbath day
The works of God were blessed.

Upon the seventh day of the week
Christ in the grave did rest,
The grave is now a holy place;
A Sabbath for the blest.

By tasting the forbidden tree
Man fell in Paradise;
Upon the tree Christ tasted death,
And by His death we rise.

Christ in a garden buried lay,
Which spring flowers did adorn;
And there our Resurrection bloomed
On that bright East­er morn.

The grave itself a garden is,
Where loveliest flowers abound;
Since Christ our amaranthine life
Sprang from that holy ground.

He by the Spi­rit once was born
Pure from the virgin’s womb,
And by the Spi­rit once again,
Born from the virgin tomb.

Oh give us grace to die to sin,
That we, O Lord, may have
A holy, happy rest with Thee,
A Sabbath, in the grave.

Thou, Lord, baptized in Thine own blood,
And buried in the grave,
Didst rise Thy­self to endless life,
Omnipotent to save.

Baptized into Thy death we died,
And buried were with Thee,
That we might live with Thee in God,
And ever blest may be.

O may we buried be with Thee,
And with Thee, Lord, arise
To an eter­nal East­er day
Of glo­ry in the skies.