1 'Tis sweet to rest in lively hope,
That when my change shall come,
Angels will hover round my bed,
And waft my spirit home!

2 There shall my disimprison'd soul
Behold Him and adore;
Be with his likeness satisfied,
And grieve and sin no more:

3 Shall see Him wear that very flesh
On which my guilt was lain;
His love intense, His merit fresh,
As though but newly slain.

4 Soon, too, my slumbering dust shall hear
The trumpet's quick'ning sound;
And, by my Saviour's power rebuilt,
At His right hand be found.

5 These eyes shall see Him in that day,
The God that died for me!
And all my rising bones shall say,
Lord, who is like to Thee!

6 If such the views which grace unfolds,
Weak as it is below,
What raptures must the Church above,
In Jesus' presence know.