2 That vailed their fair face while he slept,
And ceased their sweet harps to employ,
Have witnessed his rising, and swept
The chords with the triumphs of joy.
3 You saints, who once languished below,
But long since have entered your rest,
I pant to be glorified too,
To lean on Immanuel’s breast.
4 The grave in which Jesus was laid
Has buried my guilt and my fears;