The angels that watched round the tomb

1 The angels that watch'd round the tomb,
Where low the Redeemer was laid,
When deep in mortality's gloom,
He hid for a season his head:

2 That veil'd their fair face while he slept,
And ceas'd their sweet harps to employ,
Have witness'd his rising, and swept
The cords with the triumphs of joy.

3 Ye saints, who once languish'd below,
But long since have entered your rest;
I pant to be glorifi'd too,
To lean on Immanuel's breast.

4 The grave in which Jesus was laid,
Has buried my guilt and my fears;
And while I contemplate its shade,
The light of his presence appears.

5 O sweet is the season of rest,
When life's weary journey is done;
The blood that spreads over its west,
The last ling'ring ray of its sun.

6 Tho' dreary the empire of night,
I soon shall emerge from its gloom,
And see immortality's light
Arise in the shades of the tomb.

7 Then welcome the last rending sighs,
When these aching heart-strings shall break;
When death shall extinguish these eyes,
And moisten with dew the pale cheek.

8 No terror the prospect begets,
I am not mortality's slave:
The sun-beam of life, as it sets,
Paints a rainbow of peace on the grave.

Source: The Christian Hymn-Book, compiled and published at the request of the Miami Christian Conference #112