Who will roll away the stone? We are few and are alone, Say the women, sad and weak; Who will give the help we seek? Thus in whispers low they talk, Sighing on their early walk, Of the work that has been done Ere the rising of the sun. Who will climb into the sky, Bring redemption from on high? Who will light the dreary grave, And the dead and dying save? All is done that thou wouldst do; All is finished, soul, for you; Life is born, and death is dead, Day is shining, night has fled.