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Morning of the Sabbath day,
O thou sweetest hour of prime!
Dart a retrospective ray
O’er the eastern hills of time;
Daybreak let my spirit see
At the foot of Calvary.

Joseph’s sepulchre is nigh;
Here the seal upon the stone,
There the sentinel, with eye,
Star-like, fixed on that alone;
All around is calm and clear,
Life and death keep Sabbath here.

Bright and brighter, beam on beam,
Now, like first created light,
From the rock-cleft, gleam by gleam,
Shoots athwart the waning night,
Till the splendour grows intense,
Overpowering mortal sense.

Glory turns with me to gloom,
Sight, pulsation, thought depart,
And the stone that closed the tomb,
Seems to lie upon my heart;
With that shock the vision flies;
Christ is risen;—and I may rise:—

Rise, like him, as from this trance,
When the trumpet calls the just
To the saints’ inheritance,
From their dwellings in the dust:
By thy resurrection’s power,
Jesus, save me in that hour.

Sabbath morning, hail to thee;
O thou sweetest hour of prime!
From the foot of Calvary,
Now to Zion’s top I climb,
There my risen Lord to meet,
In his temple, at his feet.

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Meter: 7 7 7 7 7 7
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