Hark! a voice saith, All are mortal,

Yea, all flesh must fade as grass,

Only through Death's gloomy portal,

To a better life ye pass,

And this body form'd of clay,

Here must languish and decay,

Ere it rise in glorious might,

Fit to dwell with saints in light.

Therefore, since my God doth choose it,

Willingly I yield my life,

Nor I grieve that I should lose it,

For with sorrows it was rife;

And my Saviour suffer'd here

That I might not faint nor fear,

Since for me He bore my load

And hath trod the same dark road.

For my sake He went before me,

And His death is now my gain;

Peace and hope He conquer'd for me,

So without regret or pain

To His lovely home I go,

From this land of toil and woe,

Glad to reach that blest abode

Where I shall behold my God.

There is joy beyond our telling

Where so many saints are gone;

Thousand thousands there are dwelling,

Worshipping before the throne,

There the seraphim on high

Brightly shine, and ever cry

"Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord!

There in One for aye adored!"

O Jerusalem, how clearly

Dost Thou shine, Thou city fair!

Lo! I hear the tones more nearly,

Ever sweetly sounding there!

Oh what peace and joy hast thou!

Lo the Sun is rising now,

And the breaking day I see

That shall never end for me!

Yea, I see what here was told me,

See that wondrous glory shine,

Feel the spotless robes enfold me,

Know a golden crown is mine;

So before the throne I stand

One amid that glorious band,

Gazing on that joy for aye

That shall never pass away!