1 O death where is thy sting?
Where grave, thy victory?
O keys of hell, why change
Ye hands at Calvary?
Lo, on that hill
God’s wrath was placed,
Our sins erased,
And death made nil.
2 O sinner, set thy faith
On Him who bore thy curse;
The venom of that sting
Abideth on the earth.
But Christ arose
To be our way,
And sole escape,
From sin’s grim woe.
3 O saint, turn not behind—
Reach forth to things ahead;
Thy faith has made thee whole
And raised thee from the dead,
To be as one
With what awaits
Past Heaven’s gate
When ends have come.
4 O Lord, for Thee we watch,
Unto that blessèd day,
When whate’er form we take
Shall see Thee face to face;
For Thy great pow’r
Will resurrect
All Thine elect;
O wondrous hour!