The Lord hath arisen!

See where he was laid!

The grave-clothes, behold them • The spices; the bier;

The napkin that bound him;

But he is not here!

Death could not hold him;

The grave is a prison

That keeps not the living;

The Christ has arisen!

HYMN III.

THE LORD JESUS.

WHY are ye troubled ?

Why weep ye and grieve?

What the prophets have written,

Why slowly believe?

"Tis I, be not doubtful!

Why ponder ye so?
Behold in my body

The marks of my wo!

The willing have suffered;

The chosen been slain;

But the hour is accomplished!
My children, we sever—
But be ye not troubled,
I am with you for ever

Our hearts burned within us

To hear but the word

Which he spake, ere our spirits Acknowledged the Lord!

The Lord hath ascended!

Our hope is secure,

We trusted not lightly,·
The promise is sure;

The Lord hath ascended;
And we his true-hearted,
Go forth with rejoicing,
Though he hath departed!

THE POOR CHILD'S HYMN

WE are poor and lowly born;
With the poor we bide;

Labor is our heritage,

Care and want beside.

What of this? our blessed Lord

Was of lowly birth,

And poor, toiling fishermen

Were his friends on earth!

We are ignorant and young;

Simple children all;

Gifted with but humble powers,

And of learning small.

What of this? our blessed Lord

Loved such as we;

How he blessed the little ones

Sitting on his knee!

THE OLD FRIEND AND THE NEW

My old friend, he was a good old friend,
And I thought, like a fool, his face to mend ;
I got another; but ah! to my cost

I found him unlike the one I had lost!

I and my friend, we were bred together:-
He had a smile like the summer weather;
A kind warm heart; and a hand as free:-
My friend, he was all the world to me!

I could sit with him and crack many a joke,
And talk of old times and the village folk;
He had been with us at the Christmas time;
He knew every tree we used to climb;
And where we played; and what befell,
My dear old friend remembered well.
It did me good but to see his face;
And I've put another friend in his place!
I wonder how such a thing could be,

For my old friend would not have slighted me!

Oh my fine new friend, he is smooth and bland, With a jeweled ring or two on his hand;

He visits my lord and my lady fair;

He hums the last new opera air.

He takes not the children on his knee;
My faithful hound reproacheth me,

For he snarls when my new friend draweth near,
But my good old friend to the brute was dear!]

I wonder how I such a thing could do,

As change the old friend for the new!