1 In the tomb, behold He lies
Who the dead awaketh.
Christ, our stricken sacrifice,
Of sweet rest partaketh.
Fear we then no more the gloom
Of death’s narrow dwelling:
Jesus died! the wondering tomb
Of His praise is telling.

2 Vainly shall His foes rejoice;
Vainly death detain Him:
Lazarus heard His mighty voice;
What shall then restrain Him?
What shall bind His conquering arm,
Who the mountains rendeth?
Who, that He may death disarm,
To the tomb descendeth?