letra de easter hymn - ian venables
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if in that syrian garden, ages slain
you sleep, and know not you are dead in vain
nor even in dreams behold how dark and bright
ascends in smoke and fire by day and night
the hate you died to quench and could but fan
sleep well and see no morning, son of man
but if, the grave rent and the stone rolled by
at the right hand of majesty on high
you sit, and sitting so remember yet
your tears, your agony and bl–dy sweat
your cross and passion and the life you gave
bow hither out of heaven and see and save
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