1 The grave is now a favour'd spot,--
To saints who sleep, in Jesus bless'd;
For there the wicked trouble not,
And there the weary are at rest.
2 At rest in Jesus' faithful arms;
At rest as in a peaceful bed;
Secure from all the dreadful storms,
Which round this sinful world are spread.
3 Thrice happy souls, who're gone before
To that inheritance divine!
They labour, sorrow, sigh no more,
But bright in endless glory shine.
4 Then let our mournful tears be dry,
Or in a gentle measure flow;
We hail them happy in the sky,
And joyful wait our call to go.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | The grave is now a favour'd spot |
Meter: | L. M. |
Publication Date: | 1828 |
Scripture: | |
Topic: | Death: Death of the pious; The Grave |