Imagine an elderly gentleman, dressed in thunder-bolts,
Wearing a necklace made of lightening,
And wings of purest gold!
He is seated in a vacant grave,
With a voice, so loud and clear,
He is not here, for he has risen!
Now, he is seated at the right-hand
Of the Father!

No one stole his body.
He is a guest of the night air!
No sinners can harm him now,
He is the Master and Ruler of the vast universe!
He is their Love, the Rose of Sharon,
And the Mighty Counselor is he!