The Tomb of Jesus


Come and see the place where the Lord lay
with deep SORROW.

He was a murdered man, and you my soul, the murderer-

"Ah, you my sins, my cruel sins,
His chief tormentors were,
Each of my crimes became a nail,
And unbelief the spear."

I slew him--this right hand struck the dagger to his heart.
My deeds slew Christ.

Alas! I slew my best beloved!

I killed him who loved me with an everlasting love!

It seems so sad a thing that Christ should have to die.
To me it often appears too great a price for Jesus to
purchase 'worms' with his own blood.

Will he purchase my life with a price so dear?

It seems too costly for him who is the Prince of Life and Glory
to let his fair limbs be tortured in agony.

It seems too costly that the hands which carried mercies
should be pierced with accursed nails.

It seems too costly that the temples that were always clothed
with love should have cruel thorns driven through them.
It appears too much.

Oh! weep, Christian, and let your sorrow rise.
Is not the price all too great,
that your beloved should die for you?

"Alas! and did my Savior bleed?
And did my Sovereign die?"

Ah! we may indeed regret our sin, since it slew Jesus.

Come now, and see the place where the Lord lay

He does not lie there now.
Weep, when you see the tomb of Christ,
but rejoice because it is empty.

Your sin slew him, but his divinity raised him up.

Your guilt has murdered him,
but his righteousness has restored him.

Oh! he has burst the bonds of death,
he has ungirt the cerements of the tomb,
and has come out more than conqueror,
crushing death beneath his feet.

Rejoice, O Christian, for he is not there--he is risen.