W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.
The Tomb of Joseph of ArimatheaW. A. Newman
A solemn silence hung upon the scene;
The keen, bright stars shone with unclouded light,
Calm and serene.
The heavy stone before its entrance lay:
No light broke in upon its silent gloom,
No starry ray.
It hung above that garden, soft and clear,
Around the watchful guard its radiance gleamed
From helm to spear.
The watch patrolled before its entrance lone;
The bright night every passing step revealed;
None neared the stone.
The stars their lustrous shining had decreased;
And day-break’s earliest light was hastening fast
In the pale east.
Last in the silent Heaven, withdrew its ray,
And the white dawn spreading its spectre light
Foretold the day.
Just at the break of morning shook the ground,
And echoed from that rent and trembling rock
With startling sound.
Fell to the earth in wonder and affright;
And round the astonished spot in glory blazed
A sudden Light.
Descended from the tranquil sky;
The glory of his presence filled the air
From the still Sepulchre the massy stone;
And, watching silent till the risen day,
He sat thereon.
Shone like the snow in its unsullied sheen;
His face was, like the lightning’s gleaming light
Was silence, and suspense, and listening dread;
The stirless watch lay prostrate on the ground,
Hushed as the dead.
The Saviour burst that Cavern’s stillness deep,
Rising in conquest from Death’s shattered sway
As from a sleep.
In all the strength of Godhead shining bright,
Fresh as that hallowed Morning’s dewy hour
Pure as its Light.
Rose as a mighty Victor strong to save,
Breaking Death’s silent chain and unseen rod
There in the Grave.
While Angels hung around on soaring wing,
Wresting from the dark Grave its victory,
From Death its sting.