Thinking He was the gardener, she said, John 20:15
Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have put Him, and I will get Him.
Morning red, morning red,
Now the shadows all are fled;
Now the Sabbath’s cloudless glory,
Tells anew the wondrous story,
Christ is risen from the dead.
All around, all around,
Solemn silence reigned profound;
When, with blaze and sudden thunder,
Angels burst the tomb asunder,
And the Savior was unbound.
Forth He came! Forth He came!
Robed in white, celestial flame!
Mary, at the empty prison,
Knew not her Redeemer risen
Till He called her by her name.
Morning red! Morning red!
Christ is risen from the dead!
Still He walketh in the garden,
Speaking words of love and pardon.
Though the crown is on His head.