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 He talks of Golgotha, the tomb, the morn When the rent sepulchre resigned its trust, And He triumphant, first-born from the dead, Death's sceptre broken, trod the earth again; When his own saw Him, heard Him, and believed That He, whom on the tree they saw expire In agony and shame, was !

Ah! how their blessed spirits now respond In rapturous praise, and thanks, and burning love— Love that not blindly burns, like theirs of old Who to Emmaus walked—while heavenly words Fall like soft music from those lips divine! His glory they behold, that glory share, Even as on earth he said. All human grace With the full Godhead's dignity combined, And lowly gentleness, enrobed He seems With beauty infinite! They, all intent, And ravished, gazing on his unveiled face— O vision long desired—themselves transformed And in his likeness made, exultant see;