_Mary Magdalene._ Women, joy to ye! And Mary, _mother_ of James, And Salome also. Sorrow is in my heart, alas! If the body of God himself is gone, Where may it be found? _Mary, Mother of James._ So it is with me, Much and great torment for him; If he will not, through his grace, Help me in a short time, My heart in me will break Very really through troubles. _Mary Salome._ So with me is sorrow May the Lord see my state After him. As he is head of sovereignty, I believe that out of the tomb To-day he will rise. _Mary Magdalene._ Oh! let us hasten at once, For the stone is raised From the tomb. Lord, how will it be this night, If I know not where goes The head of royalty? _Mary, Mother of James._ And too long we have stayed, My Lord is gone his way Out of the tomb, surely. Alas! my heart is sick; I know not indeed if I shall see him, Who is very God. _Mary Salome._ I know truly, and I believe it, That he is risen up In this day. How will it be to us now, That we find not our Lord? Alas! woe! woe! [_They sing._ [_The Dirge._] _Alas! mourning I sing, mourning I call, Our Lord is dead that bought us all._ _Mary Magdalene._ Alas! it is through sorrows, My sweet Lord is dead Who was crucified. [_Mary Magdalene weeps at the tomb._ He bore, without complaining, Much pain on his dear body, For the people of the world _Mary, Mother of James._ I cannot see the form Of him on any side; Alas! woe is me! I would like to speak with him, If it were his will, Very seriously. _Mary Salome._ There is to me sharp longing In my heart always, And sorrow; Alas! my Lord Jesus, For thou art full of virtue, All mighty. [_The Dirge._] _Alas! mourning I sing, mourning I call, Our Lord is dead that bought us all._ _Mary Magdalene._ Jesus Christ, Lord of Heaven, O hear now our voice; Who believes not in thee, miserable he! He will not be saved. When I think of his Passion, There is not any joy in my heart; Alas! that I cannot at once Speak to thee. _Mary, Mother of James._ Gone he is to another land, And with him many angels; Alas! now for grief I am sorrowful. I pray thee, Lord of grace, To send a messenger to us, That something we may be knowing How it is to thee. _Mary Salome._ O Jesus, full of mercy, Do think of us; To thy kingdom when we come, Hear our voice. For desire I become very sick, I cannot stand on my standing, Alas! now what shall I do? O Lord of heaven! [_The Dirge._] _Alas! mourning I sing, mourning I call, Our Lord is dead, that bought us all._ _1st Angel._ I know whom ye seek: Jesus is not here, For he is risen To life in very earnest, As I tell you, Like as he is worthy. _Mary Magdalene._ O angel, now tell me, The body (none, equal to him), To what place is it gone? Like as his grace is great, Joy to me, with my eyes To see him yet.