Grieve not, nor stoop to look within
The gloom where sorrow's wraith is laid.
This mortal dream of sense and sin
Before the risen Christ shall fade.
Lift up thine eyes, behold the dawn!
Soft dews of benediction fall,
The night of doubt and darkness gone,
To thee, the voice of Truth doth call;
And to thy listening heart reveals,
While hope and faith keep blessed tryst,
The presence of the power that heals—
Forever here, the risen Christ.
