The leaping heart which almost burst
For joy, the eager feet which ran,
Lo, these, though fain, were not the first,
When Love rose up and light began.

More swift with healing in His hands
Was He than man's most breathless speed;
There, while we haste, behold He stands
Our risen Lord raised up indeed.

The brightness of His Father's face
No shades of darkness could enclose:
Before we sought His resting-place,
Swifter than light again He rose!