English poem
The Two Marys
by Mary Howitt (1799–1888)
Oh dark day of sorrow, Amazement and pain; When the promise was blighted The given was ta’en!
When the master no longer A refuge should prove; And evil was stronger Than mercy and love!
Oh dark day of sorrow, Abasement and dread, When the Master beloved Was one with the dead!
We sate in our anguish Afar off to see, For we surely believed not This sorrow could be!
But the trust of our spirits Was all overthrown; And we wept, in our anguish, Astonished, alone!
At even they laid him With aloes and myrrh, In fine linen wound, in A new sepulchre.
There, there will we seek him: Will wash him with care; Anoint him with spices: And mourn for him there.
Oh strangest of sorrow! Oh vision of fear! New grief is around us— The Lord is not here!