‘O Death, where is thy victory! O Grave, were is thy sting’
The inspired Bard & holy prophet sung;
His hands exulting swept the trembling string —
And all around with heavenly Music rung.
More loud & louder thrills the trembling chords,
His hands more Faster moves along the lyre —
The Bard’s strong faith triumphant joy affords,
And all his soul's enrapt in heavenly Fire
The sounds vibrating still the Notes prolong,
And listening Seraphs throng the Bard around
On Wings of Easter— flock to hear the song;
And smile in concert to the pleasing sound
T'was thou O Jesus! Saviour of the World
T'was thou that filled the Bard’s prophetic eye
He saw thy flag of ‘Peace on Earth’ unfurled
And heard ‘Glad tidings’ melt along the Sky
But O! a Tear! — The Magic Scenes ensue
The Saviour dies — that sinners might be blest.
Dies! — Death & Hell's grim terrors to subdue,
And make the grave a-wished-for-place of rest.