We look not at the grave of Christ,
As though the Lord were there;
As though His work had not sufficed,
When all our guilt he bare.
The sinless one His life-blood shed;
For us He sin was made;
For us was numbered with the dead,
And in the grave was laid.
But death could not the Lord retain;
His grave is empty now;
On high He hath returned again;
Heaven’s glory crowns His brow.
His blood is on the mercy-seat,
The veil in twain is rent;
And to declare His work complete,
The Holy Ghost is sent.
He tells of what the Lord hath done
Our guilty souls to save;
How He for us hath victory won
O’er Satan and the grave.
We look to Christ, the Lord above,
Learn there His saving grace;
And see the Father’s matchless love
Revealed in Jesus’ face.
As one in life with Him, on high,
We live for Him below;
And wait that day when he, with us,
His glorious life will show.