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1 There's rest in the grave,
Life's toils are all past,
Night cometh at last:
How calmly I rest
In the sleep of the blest,
Nor hear life's storm rave
O'er my green, grassy grave.
2 No rest in the grave--
Heaven's dawn purples fast,
Morn's splendors are cast
Like shafts through the gloom
Of the dark, silent tomb;
Heaven's fair bowers wave--
No rest in the grave!
3 Arise from the grave!
Heaven's bright, burning throng
Come rushing along;
They gird me about,
And triumphant shout,
As myriad palms wave,
Ascend from the grave.
Source: The Voice of Praise: a collection of hymns for the use of the Methodist Church #917
First Line: | There's rest in the grave |
Title: | Rest in the Grave |
Author: | Charles Beecher |
Language: | English |
Copyright: | Public Domain |