W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.
The Angels at the SepulchreThomas Toke Lynch (18181871)
Shines into the sepulchre, slumber has ceased;
The stone, like a cloud, has moved lightly away,
And on it there sits a strong angel of day.
Not before him a bar, but beneath him a throne;
Bedazzled and smit with his terrible light,
They tremble, they fly, and they fall in their flight.
Again hallelujahs may swell from your breast;
Let surges of music, like summer seas bright,
Re-ëcho and roll through the heavenly height.
Beneath the great mountains and billows of hell;
But He lighted the caverns of ancient despair,
And with a new chain bound the fiend in his lair.
He triumphs to-day whom the people refused:
Of all that have loved Him he’ll comfort the soul,
Now his own wounded heart is for ever made whole.
Sing anew, for the right has prevailed o’er the wrong;
The best of good-will shines through hatred and pain
And glory and peace have arisen to reign.