1 Death with his dread commission seal'd,
Now hastens to his arms:
In awful state he takes the field,
And sounds his dire alarms.
2 Attendant plagues around him stand,
And wait his dread command;
And pains, and dying groans obey
The signal of his hand.
3 With cruel force, he scatters round
His shafts of deadly pow'r;
While the grave waits its destin'd prey,
Impatient to devour.
4 Look up, ye heirs of endless joy,
Nor let your fears prevail;
Eternal life is our reward,
When life on earth shall fail.
5 What though his darts promiscous hurl'd,
Deal fatal plagues around;
And heaps of putrid carcases
O'erload the cumber'd ground;
6 The arrows, that shall wound your flesh,
Were giv'n him from above,
Dipt in the great Redeemer's blood,
And feather'd all with love.
7 These, with a gentle hand he throws,
And saints lie gasping too;
But heav'nly strength supports their souls,
And bears them conqu'rors through.