The Resurrection.

I do believe that die I must,
And be return'd from out my dust:
I do believe that when I rise,
Christ I shall see, with these same eyes:
I do believe that I must come,
With others, to the dreadful doom:
I do believe the bad must go
From thence, to everlasting woe:
I do believe the good, and I,
Shall live with Him eternally:
I do believe I shall inherit
Heaven, by Christ's mercies, not my merit.
I do believe the One in Three,
And Three in perfect unity:
Lastly, that JESUS is a deed
Of gift from God: and here's my creed.

For each one body that i' th' earth is sown,
There's an uprising but of one for one;
But for each grain that in the ground is thrown,
Threescore or fourscore spring up thence for one:
So that the wonder is not half so great
Of ours as is the rising of the wheat.

Hence they have borne my Lord; behold! the stone
Is rolled away and my sweet Saviour's gone.
Tell me, white angel, what is now become
Of Him we lately sealed up in this tomb?
Is He, from hence, gone to the shades beneath,
To vanquish hell as here He conquered death?
If so, I'll thither follow without fear,
And live in hell if that my Christ stays there.

Of all the good things whatsoe'er we do,
God is the {ARCHÊ}, and the {TELOS} too.

So in the sinful streets, abstracted and alone,
I with my secret self held communing of mine own.
So in the southern city spake the tongue
Of one that somewhat overwildly sung,
But in a later hour I sat and heard
Another voice that spake another graver word.
Weep not, it bade, whatever hath been said,
Though He be dead, He is not dead.
In the true creed
He is yet risen indeed;
Christ is yet risen.

Weep not beside His tomb,
Ye women unto whom
He was great comfort and yet greater grief;
Nor ye, ye faithful few that wont with Him to roam,
Seek sadly what for Him ye left, go hopeless to your home;
Nor ye despair, ye sharers yet to be of their belief;
Though He be dead, He is not dead,
Nor gone, though fled,
Not lost, though vanished;
Thou...

              This   crosstree   here
              Doth    Jesus      bear,
              Who   sweet'ned   first
              The   death   accurs'd.
Here all things ready are, make haste, make haste away;
For long this  work will be,  and very short  this day.
Why then,  go on to  act:  here's  wonders to be  done
Before the last  least sand of  Thy ninth  hour be run;
Or ere dark  clouds do dull  or dead the mid-day's sun.
              Act  when   Thou  wilt,
              Blood  will  be  spilt;
              Pure  balm, that  shall
              Bring  health  to  all.
              Why     then,    begin
              To   pour   first   in
              Some   drops  of  wine,
              Instead    of    brine,
              To   search  the ...

(Lyra Messianica, 1864.)


There is nothing more that they can do
    For all their rage and boast;
Caiaphas with his blaspheming crew,
    Herod with his host,

Pontius Pilate in his Judgement-hall
    Judging their Judge and his,
Or he who led them all and passed them all,
    Arch-Judas with his kiss.

The sepulchre made sure with ponderous Stone,
    Seal that same stone, O Priest;
It may be thou shalt block the holy One
    From rising in the east:

Set a watch about the sepulchre
    To watch on pain of death;
They must hold fast the stone if One should stir
    And shake it from beneath.

God Almighty, He can break a seal
    And roll away a Stone,
Can grind the proud in dust who would not kneel,
...