Mine eyes are now closing to rest,
My body must soon be removed,
And mouldering, lie buried in dust,
No more to be envied or loved,
(Repeat previous line).
Ah! what is this drawing my breath,
And stealing my senses away
O tell me, O tell me, O tell me,
O tell me, my soul, is it death,
Releasing me kindly from clay?
Now mourning, my soul shall descry
The regions of pleasure and love,
My spirit triumphant shall fly,
And dwell with my Savior above.