Father, so let us be risen with Thee,
Whom but the pure in heart only canst see,
That Thine own Sabbath morn
Look on the newly born,
Giving Thy servants, Lord,
Rest and reward.
Dust unto dust is given, earth chords are riven;
“Hast Thou forsaken me?” echoed to heaven.
But when the earthly dreams
Wake into Wisdom’s beams,
Saying the false must die,
Thou art most nigh.
Not in the worldling’s voice would I rejoice,
Lay up thy treasure in heaven’s the choice,
Not at fame’s hollow mart
Lay down a perjured heart,
But in all Truth abide,
Whate’er betide.
