Dear is the spot where Christians sleep,

And sweet the strains their spirits pour;

O, why should we in anguish weep?

They are not lost, but gone before.

2 Secure from every mortal care,

By sin and sorrow vexed no more,

Eternal happiness they share

Who are not lost, but gone before.

3 To Zion’s peaceful courts above

In faith triumphant may we soar,

Embracing, in the arms of love,

The friends not lost, but gone before.

4 To Jordan’s bank whene’er we come,

And hear the swelling waters roar;

Jesus! convey us safely home,

To friends not lost, but gone before.