1 In the twilight’s sacred stillness,
Where our kindred spirits blend,
We with glad anticipation
Wait that life which hath no end.
Here we sit in meditation
Of God’s awful words to man—
“Dust thou art, to dust returnest”—
This the order of his plan.
2 All this life is but a shadow,
Only earthly things we see;
Rippling stream and verdant meadow
Waken tho’ts of praise in me.
Thus the earth is robed in beauty,
Sparkling jewels she doth wear;
But the Lord’s transcendent glory
We shall see when over there.
3 Blessed tho’t, ‘tis so transporting—
As we lay these bodies down,
We shall rise on wings immortal
And receive a golden crown.—
Free indeed thro’ his salvation,
Free from trouble, grief and pain,
Free at last from all temptation,
Free, with Christ fore’er to reign.