The Saviour wakened from his sleep;
He spake, and all was still.
2 The madman in a tomb had made
His mansion of despair;
Woe to the traveler who strayed,
With heedless footsteps, there.
3 He met that glance so thrilling sweet,
He heard those accents mild;
And, melting at Messiah’s feet,
Wept like a weanéd child.