All is o???er, the pain, the sorrow, Human taunts and fiendish spite; Death shall be despoiled tomorrow Of the prey he grasps tonight; Yet awhile, His own to save, Christ must linger in the grave. Dark and still the cell that holds Him, While in brief repose He lies; Deep the slumber that enfolds Him, Veiled awhile from mortal eyes; Slumber such as needs must be After hard won victory. Fierce and deadly was the anguish Which on yonder cross He bore; How did soul and body languish Till the toil of death was o???er: But that toil, so fierce and dread, Bruised and crushed the serpent???s head. All night long, with plaintive voicing, Chant His requiem soft and low: Loftier strains of loud rejoicing From tomorrow???s harps shall flow: ???Death and hell at length are slain! Christ hath triumphed! Christ doth reign!???