Scripture Verse

They said among themselves, Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulcher? Mark 16:3

Introduction

Words: H. S. Eng­ström, Ask, and Oth­er Po­ems (Lon­don: S. W. Part­ridge, 1905), pag­es 45–47.

Music: Hurs­ley Ka­tho­lisch­es Ge­sang­buch (Vi­en­na, 1774). Adapt­ed from the Me­tri­cal Psal­ter, 1855 (🔊 pdf nwc).

If you know Eng­ström’s full name, or where to get a good pho­to of her (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),

Lyrics

illustration
The Holy Women at the Tomb
William Bouguereau (1825–1905)

Rough was the way, and dark, and cold,
By which the wo­men came of old,
Seeking the grave where Je­sus lay,
Upon the first great East­er Day.

Their hearts were filled with grief and fear,
And as their trem­bling steps drew near,
In whis­pered words we hear them say,
But who shall roll the stone away?

Our fee­ble women’s strength alone
Can ne­ver move that weigh­ty stone;
Our jour­ney will be all in vain,
We ne’er shall see our Lord again.

But still with love that lin­gers not,
They press to­wards the sac­red spot,
Where, rest­ing in mys­te­ri­ous sleep,
The Sav­ior lies, for whom they weep.

And toil­ing on­wards through the gloom,
They reach at last the roc­ky tomb,
Just as the first faint streak of dawn
Is break­ing on that East­er morn.

What is this sight that greets their eyes?
No sun­shine stream­ing from the sky,
But beau­te­ous an­gels clothed in white,
And beam­ing with ce­les­ti­al light.

In ten­der­est tones the an­gels said,
Why seek the liv­ing with the dead?
Christ the Lord is ris­en to­day,
Come see the place where Je­sus lay.

And look­ing up, but not with fear,
Those ho­ly women drew more near;
Till, in the light of East­er Day,
They saw the stone was rolled away.

Christians, re­joice! Take heart of grace,
All ye who seek the Sav­ior’s face,
There may be mount­ains in the way,
But God will roll each stone away.

It needs, per­haps, an earth­quake’s shock
To move the ada­man­tine rock;
Or else His love, if so He please,
Can work by slow and sure de­grees.

Leave it to Him to choose the means;
Each ob­sta­cle that in­ter­venes
Shall van­ish like that migh­ty stone,
And God be glo­ri­fied alone.

Nothing can be too hard for One
Who gave His own be­lov­èd Son
To die for man, and from the grave
To rise om­ni­po­tent to save.

Only be­lieve, and ye shall see
How won­der­ful His work will be;
Bidding each doubt and fear to cease,
And all be love, and joy and peace.

So let us all loud an­thems sing
To Christ the Lord, our hea­ven­ly king,
Who on this glo­ri­ous East­er Day,
Hath rolled the last great stone away.