Thou shalt rise! my dust, thou shalt arise!

Not always closed thine eyes;

Thy life's first Giver

Will give thee life for ever.

Ah! praise His name!

Sown in darkness, but to bloom again.

When, after winter's reign,

Jesus is reaping

The seed now quietly sleeping.

Ah! praise His name!

Day of praise! for thee, thou wondrous day,

In my quiet grave I stay;

And when I number

My days and nights of slumber,

Thou wakest me!

Then, as they who dream, we shall arise

With Jesus to the skies,

And find that morrow

The weary pilgrim's sorrow

All past and gone!

Then, with the Holiest I tread,

By my Redeemer led,

Through Heaven soaring,

His holy name adoring

Eternally!