"'Tis finish'd!"--why then toilest thou? In vain thy labour ever! As if aught human strength can do, Could e'er from guilt deliver! 'Tis done! beware, And never dare To add aught to it ever; Do thou believe, In faith aye cleave To Him, forsake Him never.
His voice at length the Lord doth raise, High over all 'tis swelling: "My spirit, Father! to the place Take where Thou'rt ever dwelling, My soul receive, That now doth leave This body sorely riven." And at the word, To the great Lord Release from pain was given.
Oh! would to God, that I might end My life as His was ended, My spirit unto God commend As His was then commended. O Christ, my Lord! May Thy last word The last be by me spoken; So happily I'll go to Thee, When life's last thread is broken.
Up! up! my heart with gladness, See what to-day is done! How after gloom and sadness Comes forth the glorious Sun! My Saviour there was laid Where our bed must be made, When to the realms of light Our spirit wings its flight.
They in the grave did sink Him, The foe held jubilee; Before he can bethink him, Lo! Christ again is free. And victory He cries, And waving tow'rds the skies His banner, while the field Is by the Hero held!
Upon the grave is standing The Hero looking round; The foe, no more withstanding, His weapons on the ground Throws down, his hellish pow'r To Christ must he give o'er, And to the Victor's bands Must yield his feet and hands.
A sight it is to gladden And fill the heart with glee, No more affright or sadden Shall aught, or take from me My trust or fortitude, Or any precious good The Saviour bought for me In sov'reign love and free.
Hell and its bands can never Hurt e'en a single hair, Sin can I mock at ever, Safe am I everywhere. The mighty pow'r of death Is my regard beneath; It is a pow'rless form, Howe'er it rage and storm.
The world my laughter ever Moves, though it rage amain, It rages, but can never Do ill, its work is vain. No trouble troubles me, My heart from care is free, Misfortune is my prize, The night my fair sunrise.
I cleave, and cleave shall ever, To Christ, a member true, Shall part from my Head never, Whate'er He passes through; He treads the world beneath His feet, and conquers death And hell, and breaks sin's thrall; I'm with Him through it all.