Come, See the Place Where Jesus Lies

Come

see the place where Je­sus lies:

The last sad rite is done;

With ach­ing hearts

and weep­ing eyes

The faith­ful few are gone.

They washed with tears each bloody trace

On those dear limbs that lay;

Then spread the nap­kin o’er His face

And turned and went away.

By seal­èd stone with ground­ed spears

The guards their vi­gil keep:

They wist not oth­er eyes than theirs

Watch o’er the Sav­ior’s sleep.

All Heav’n above

all hell be­neath—

Bright hope

and blank dis­may—

Look on

to see if gris­ly Death

Can hold his migh­ty prey.

Now gris­ly Death

thy pow­ers com­bine!

Now gird thee to the strife!

Yet needs there strong­er arm than thine

To keep the Lord of life.

’Tis done! O Death

thy Vic­tor-guest

Hath smoothed thy vis­age grim!

O grave! thou place of bless­èd rest

To all who sleep in Him!