Sweet spices they brought on their star-lighted way,
And came to the grave by the dawning of day.
But who will the stone from the sepulcher roll?
They said, as the tears from their weeping eyes stole.
The stone is removed, and the Savior is gone;
Oh, hail, ye disciples, this bright Sabbath morn.
Lift, lift your glad voices in triumph on high;
Your Master has risen, and ye shall not die.
May Christ now appear as to Mary He came,
And fill every bosom with piety’s flame.
Then Heaven’s bright glories we soon shall obtain,
Nor Sabbaths, so peaceful, be useless and vain.