O Story Sweet

The morn­ing breez­es whis­pered low

A won­drous tale and sweet;

Each rust­ling leaf in ten­der love

The sto­ry did re­peat:

Within a roc­ky se­pul­cher

The cru­ci­fied One slept;

Before the seal­èd door a guard

Of sol­diers vi­gil kept.

O sto­ry sweet and won­der­ful

Upon that morn of old

By whis­per­ing breeze and rust­ling leaf

In ten­der whis­pers told.

The morn­ing breez­es wan­dered wide

And ev­ery­where they told

The won­drous tale they whis­pered first

To sway­ing leaves of old.

At ear­ly dawn an an­gel came

And rolled the stone away

Revealing where the Cru­ci­fied

In death’s calm slum­ber lay.

The morn­ing bree­zes whis­pered low

The won­drous tale and sweet;

And o’er the earth the chim­ing bells

The sto­ry did repeat;

O Christ the dead re­vived again

And from the tomb to­day

Came forth in glo­ri­ous ma­jes­ty

To live and reign for aye.