1 The awful noontide gloom is o’er,
The darkness ebbs away;
The Maries linger to adore:
O, let us with them pray!

2 Yea, let us linger ’neath the cross
Where hangs the Lord of Life;
Now let us weep their bitter loss,
And mourn our carnal strife.

3 More calmly now each past offense
May we in grief review,
And weep our vanished innocence,
And feel despair our due.

4 Yet He upon the cross who lies
For us hath pardon won;
Thence blend we comfort with our sighs,
And laud the glorious Son.

5 The hours creep on—O rest we here
Beneath the cross’ shade!
We’ll keep our vigil, sad yet dear,
Till low our Lord is laid.

6 See! Joseph comes with spices’ store;
See Nicodemus aid:
They gaze upon their Lord once more
While daylight’s rays do fade.

7 With pious haste and pious awe
They soon their task complete;
From those blest hands the nails they draw
And free those sacred feet.

8 Then down the blessèd form they bear
And low on earth to lay,
And weeping bend in silent prayer,
Yet scarce for tears can pray.

9 Now see that gracious company,
The Maries, true Saint John,
And those twain lords of high degree
Now raise and bear Him on.

10 They bear Him to the new-hewn tomb,
There down their Lord they set,
And leave Him in the sacred gloom,
Their Lord, and Savior yet.

11 O silent tears, O sighs of pain,
How flowed ye fast and free!
For them, for us, the Lamb was slain
To all eternity.