WHERE IS THY VICTORY, O GRAVE!
Christian, awake! Let thy soul swell with gladness!
Prospects of glory dawn bright on thy sadness;
Rising, immortal, thy spirit shall sing,—
Grave, where 's thy victory; Death, where 's thy sting?
Sown in corruption, the frame lies decaying;
Raised in its glory, all beauty displaying,
Body and spirit united shall sing,—
Grave, where 's thy victory; Death, where 's thy sting?
Peacefully sleep till the trumpet awake thee;
He whom thou lovest will never forsake thee;
Ransomed from guilt and from death, thou shalt sing,—
Grave, where 's thy victory; Death, where 's thy sting?
Then, when this mortal, immortal awaking,
Triumphs, exulting, Death's dark fetters breaking;
Man in his glorified nature shall sing,—
Grave, where 's thy victory; Death, where 's thy sting?
