When Downward to the Darksome Tomb

When down­ward to the dark­some tomb

I thought­ful turn my eyes

Frail na­ture trem­bles at the gloom

And anx­ious fears arise.

Why shrinks my soul? In death’s em­brace

Once Je­sus cap­tive slept;

And an­gels

ho­ver­ing o’er the place

His low­ly pi­llow kept.

Thus shall they guard my sleep­ing dust

And

as the Sav­ior rose

The grave again shall yield her trust

And end my deep re­pose.

My Lord

be­fore to glo­ry gone

Shall bid me come away;

And calm and bright shall break the dawn

Of Heav­en’s eter­nal day.

Then let my faith each fear dis­pel

And gild with light the grave;

To Him my lof­ti­est prais­es swell

Who died from death to save.