1 Soon we shall see, shall see the glorious morning;
Saints, arise, saints, arise;
Sinners attend, attend the notes of warning;
Saints, arise, saints, arise.
The resurrection day draws near,
The King of saints shall soon appear,
And high unfurl his banner here;
Saints, arise, saints, arise.
2 Hear ye the trump, the trump of God resounding;
Saints, arise--saints, arise;
Through death's dark vaults, dark vaults its notes rebounding,
Saints, arise--saints, arise;
To meet the Bridegroom, haste, prepare,
Put on your bridal garments fair,
And hail your Saviour in the air;
Saints, arise--saints, arise.
3 The saints who sleep, who sleep, with joy awaken,
All arise, all arise;
Their clay-cold beds, cold beds are quick forsaken;
All arise, all arise;
Not one, of all the faithful few,
Who here on earth the Saviour knew,
But starts, with bliss, his Lord to view;
All arise, all rise.
4 Pursue them on, them on their pathway glorious;
All arise, all arise;
Led by their King, their King o'er death victorious,
All arise, all arise;
On Zion's hill secure they stand,
With palms of victory in their hand;
To that long-sought, and peaceful land,
All arise, all arise.
5 Fast by the throne, the throne of God behold them;
Blissful scene, blissful scene,
And in his arms, his arms the Saviour folds them,
Blissful scene, blissful scene;
With wreaths of glory round their head,
No tears of sorrow now are shed,
To joy's full fountain all are led;
All is bliss, all is bliss.
Source: The Minstrel of Zion: a book of religious songs, accompanied with appropriate music, chiefly original #17