Dry anguish may its tendrils rend.

Sin soon will crucify our Lord,

Thy sin, and all the world's beside.

He gave himself, the Living Word,

Our shelter from God's wrath to hide.

Had all the seraphs pens to write

Such love upon the boundless sky,

Angelic powers could not indite

Its greatness while the ages fly.

The hour is hastening. God has willed

That Christ should through his own decree

Abolish death and have fulfilled

Our blood-bought immortality.

And when the awful tomb he rent,

When freed from every earthly thrall,

"Tell Peter" was the message sent;

"Tell Peter"—'tis love's tender call.

Peter was martyr to his faith;

His rock, God's son whom he denied;

This faith the key that unlocks death

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