Watchers there were, who lingered through the night,
Angels who said, “The Master hath arisen.”
III
Where now its sting, since death itself is dead?
Where now the power that held the captive bound?
Weave laurels gay to crown the Victor’s head,
Sing carols loud till earth and heaven resound.
IV
Break, happy morn! and let the world be glad,
Night is no more, and all our fears are gone;