Ere the morn in beauty wake,
Let us seek the Saviour’s tomb,—
Not with ointment and perfume,
But with songs the silence break;
We shall see the Christ appear,
Sun of Righteousness to cheer.

They who dwell in death’s abode,
Bound with fetters dark and cold,
Shall the Saviour’s love behold;
They shall hail the light of day,
And their gladsome foot employ
In this festival of joy.

Go ye forth amid the gloom,
And with torches burning bright
Cheer the darkness of the night,
Meet the Bridegroom at the tomb;
Greet with songs of festal glee
Him who sets His people free.