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Darkly o'er thee, Palestine!
Hangs the mystic veil of night;
Land of Shinar, grief is thine,
Quenched the glory of thy light,--
Where is now the promise given
To thy sires of ancient day?
Where, O where, the lamp of heaven,
To direct the wanderer's way?


Ye who, favoured, saw Him, tell
Of his mien, beyond compare;
Ye who marked Him when he fell,
Say, was not the Godhead there?
Yet he writhed beneath the rod--
Anguish sat upon his brow--
Men have triumphed in his blood,
And the marble holds him now.


Wherefore then the golden beam,
Springing up the eastern sky;
Bright, yet soft as morning's dream,
When night's empire passes by?
Wherefore then the choral hymn,
Floating on the wavy air--
Why hath ope'd the marble tomb?
JESUS sleeps no longer there!


He hath risen!--crushed his power--
Lo, in dust the arch-fiend lies;
He hath risen!--glorious hour!
We who sleep in him shall rise;
Welcome death! each sorrow closing,
Now thy features smiles do wear;
Welcome grave! to flesh reposing,
JESUS is the victor there.