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Christ's Final Victory
Over men's graves we lightly tread!
Ah, soon forgotten are the dead!
“Christ is not risen,” we hear men say,
“There is no Resurrection Day.”
Ah, soon forgotten are the dead!
“Christ is not risen,” we hear men say,
“There is no Resurrection Day.”
522
“Death over us will soon have power,
To pleasure give life's little hour;
Like leaves the generations fall,
Death still is sovereign over all.”
To pleasure give life's little hour;
Like leaves the generations fall,
Death still is sovereign over all.”
Ah thoughtless men, ah faithless Age,
Not to believe the Sacred Page;
That Christ at length o'er death shall reign,
The final victory shall gain.
Not to believe the Sacred Page;
That Christ at length o'er death shall reign,
The final victory shall gain.
That to the dead, who in Him sleep,
He will his faithful promise keep;
That, at his coming, they shall rise,
Welcomed by angels to the skies.
He will his faithful promise keep;
That, at his coming, they shall rise,
Welcomed by angels to the skies.
That e'en mortality shall be
A sharer in his victory;
Changed to immortal, it shall wear
The heavenly image, wondrous fair.
A sharer in his victory;
Changed to immortal, it shall wear
The heavenly image, wondrous fair.
Let these high thoughts our souls inspire,
Fill us with earnest, pure desire,
That we the prize in Christ may win,
His victory over death and sin.
Fill us with earnest, pure desire,
That we the prize in Christ may win,
His victory over death and sin.
Poem No. 395; 26 November 1878
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