Approach with awe this holiest place, the last of death's domain; the shuttered heavens hide their face, the powers of darkness reign; for there beneath those sombre skies the Prince of life, forsaken, dies. The Prince of life! For us he came from that high throne above, his cross the measure of our shame, his death the price of love; and at his cross, my soul, begin to feel the weight of love and sin. Can this poor broken form be he who taught the words of truth, who strode the hills of Galilee in all the flower of youth? Can this be he, this lifeless head, with grace and strength and beauty fled? By wood and nails the work is done that answers all our need, the prize of full salvation won, the ransomed sinner freed. Draw near with faith, my soul, and see the Prince of life who died for me. The Prince of life! While time shall last his cross and grave remain sure signs of sin and sorrow past, bright morning come again: an empty cross, an empty grave, a risen Christ to seek and save!