1 Met around the sacred tomb,
Friends of Jesus, why those tears?
Mid this sad sepulchral gloom
Shall your faith give way to fears?
He will soon, even as He said,
Rise triumphant from the dead.
2 Hither, sinners, all repair,
And with Jesus Christ be dead;
All are safe from Satan’s snare,
Who to Jesus’ tomb have fled;
Here the weary and oppressed
Find a never ending rest.
3 In Thy death is all my trust,
I have Thee my refuge made;
And when once, consigned to dust,
In the tomb my body’s laid,
Then with savèd souls above
I will praise Thy dying love.
4 But while here I’m left behind,
Burdened with infirmity,
May I help and comfort find,
Visiting Gethsemane,
Calvary and Joseph’s tomb,
Till my Sabbath’s also come.