Classic Poem

HYMN II.

The sacred body of our Lord,
Which on the cross had bled,
Three days lay bury'd in the grave,
And then rose from the dead.

His presence the desponding hearts
Of his disciples chears:
His voice they hear, his scars survey,
Which banish doubts and fears.

Explaining oracles divine,
Their ears and souls he charms;
His order to convert the world,
Their drooping courage warms.

For thus the mediator spoke,
" All power in earth and heav'n
" To me, triumphant o'er the grave,
" Is by my father giv'n.

" Go therefore teach the nations all
" What you have learn'd of me;
" Baptize 'em in the awful name
" Of the eternal Three.

" Teach 'em whatever I command;
" My presence I assure,
" To crown your labours with success,
" While heaven and earth endure.

Lord! we thy wondrous grace adore,
Thy awful word revere:
Thy death and thy revival both
Our baptism makes appear.

The promise of thy presence now
Does glad expectance raise:
Hope of thy second coming fills
Our souls with joy and praise:

'Tis then the dead thy voice shall hear,
The dead thy voice obey;
Thy saints, who sleep in dust, awake
To joy's eternal day.