Lament:
Dawn breaking light raised the shadows,
Staring alone at the tomb,
Head cloth left folded so neatly,
Still with a trace of perfume.
Anguish welled up in the memories,
Angels in white at the door,
They asked, “Woman why are you weeping,
Over burial cloths that He wore?”
“They’ve taken His body away,
And I do not know were my Lord is laid”,
Behind,
Beholding him there,
A gardener tending his care,
Maybe he’ll find.
Then He said, “Mary”,
He said, “Mary”.
Celebration:
Storming the gates of death’s domain,
Setting the captives free,
Ransomed from its damning power,
Swallowed up in victory.
Rolling the stone,
Renting the vale,
Proclaiming the decree,
First fruits of the parting saints,
To live eternally.
Chorus:
He is risen,
The kingdom of death now has no reign,
He is risen,
Our faith in Him is not in vain,
He is risen,
Taking His place to rule on high,
He is risen,
His chosen ones will never die.
Bridge:
Oh death where is you sting?
Oh grave your victory.
Herb Williams 1992, revised 1995