1 O how blest are ye whose toils are ended!
Who through death, have unto God ascended!
Ye have arisen
From the cares which keep us still in prison.
2 We are still as in a dungeon living,
Still oppressed with sorrow and misgiving;
Our undertakings
Are but toils and troubles and heart-breakings.
3 Ye, meanwhile, are in your chambers sleeping,
Quiet, and set free from all our weeping;
No cross or sadness
There can hinder your untroubled gladness.
4 Christ has wiped away your tears forever;
Ye have that for which we still endeavor;
To you are chanted
Songs that ne'er to mortal ears were granted.
5 Ah! who would then not depart with gladness,
To inherit heaven for earthly sadness?
Who here would languish
Longer in bewailing and in anguish?
6 Come, 0 Christ, and loose the chains that bind us!
Lead us forth, and cast this world behind us!
With Thee, th'Anointed,
Finds the soul its joy and rest appointed.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | O how blest are ye whose toils are ended! |
Meter: | 10, 10, 5, 10 |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1918 |
Topic: | Death and Burial |