Pain and toil are over now;
Bring the spice and bring the myrrh,
Fold the limb and bind the brow,
In the rich man’s sepulcher.
Sin has bruised the Victor’s heel;
Roll the stone and guard it well;
Bring the Roman’s boasted seal,
Bring his boldest sentinel.
Yet the morning’s purple ray
Shall present a glorious sight,
Stone by earthquake rolled away,
Angel guards all robed in white.