O Short Was His Slumber; He Woke From The Dust,
The Saviour Death’s Chain Could Not Hold;
And Short, Since He Rose, Is The Sleep Of The Just;
They Shall Wake, And His Glory Behold.

Dear Grave In The Garden; Hope Smiled At Its Door
Where Love’s Brightest Triumph Was Told;
Christ Lives! And His Life Will His People Restore;
They Shall Wake, And His Glory Behold.