I said sometimes with tears, Ah me! I'm loth to die! LORD, silence Thou these fears: My life's with Thee on high. Sweet truth to me! I shall arise, And with these eyes My Saviour see. My life's a shade, my days Apace to death decline; My LORD is Life; He'll raise My dust again, ev'n mine. My peaceful grave shall keep My bones till, that sweet day, I wake from my long sleep And leave my bed of clay. My LORD His angels shall Their golden trumpets sound; At whose most welcome call My grave shall be unbound. Sweet truth to me! I shall arise, And with these eyes My Saviour see. |