Soft the evening bells are ringing,
Night her sable shade is flinging,
Death with dreadful grip is clinging,
To the form within the tomb.
Angels of light watch thro’ the night!
Waiting the glorious dawning,
Knowing full well, sin, death and hell,
Vanquished will be in the morning.
Roman guards their vigils keeping,
Birds on dew-gemmed bough are sleeping
Broken hearted Mary’s weeping,
While the King sleeps sweetly on.
See the armèd sentries shaking!
Lo, the sealèd tomb is breaking.
And the Lord to life is waking!
Yea, He cometh forth in might!