Ye Humble Souls That Seek the Lord

Ye hum­ble souls

that seek the Lord

Chase all your fears away;

And bow with plea­sure down to see

The place where Je­sus lay.

Thus low the Lord of life was brought;

Such won­ders love can do;

Thus cold in death that bo­som lay

Which throbbed and bled for you.

A mo­ment give a loose to grief

Let grate­ful sor­rows rise

And wash the bloody stains away

With tor­rents from your eyes.

Then raise your eyes

and tune your songs

The Sav­ior lives again:

Not all the bolts and bars of death

The Con­quer­or could de­tain.

High o’er the an­gel­ic bands He rears

His once dis­hon­ored head;

And through un­num­bered years He reigns

Who dwelt among the dead.

With joy like His shall ev­ery saint

His va­cant tomb sur­vey;

Then rise with his as­cend­ing Lord

Thro’ all His shin­ing way.