166. The grave itself a garden is

The grave itself a garden is,
Where loveliest flowers abound;
Since Christ, our never-fading life,
Sprang from that holy ground.

O give us grace to die to sin,
That we, O Lord, may have
A holy, happy rest in thee,
A Sabbath in the grave.

Thou, Lord, baptized in thine own blood,
And buried in the grave,
Didst raise thyself to endless life,
Omnipotent to save.

Baptized into thy death we died,
And buried were with thee,
That we might live with thee to God,
And ever blest might be.

Lord, through the grave and gate of death
May we, with thee, arise
To an eternal Easter day
Of glory in the skies!

Amen.

Text Information
First Line: The grave itself a garden is
Author: Christopher Wordsworth (1862)
Meter: C.M.
Language: English
Publication Date: 1916
Topic: Easter Even; Burial of the Dead
Tune Information
Name: BELMONT
Meter: C.M.
Incipit: 53217 76155 54332
Key: G Major
Source: Sacred Melodies, 1812



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