1 O blessed estate of the dead--
The dead that have died in the Lord!
From trouble and misery freed,
And sure of their endless reward:
By sorrow no longer oppress'd
When join'd to the spirits above!
With Jesus in glory they rest,
They rest in the arms of his love.
2 O! when will the Saviour extend
The arms of his mercy to me?
The days of my pilgrimage end,
My soul from its prison set free?
When will the dear moment arrive
Which often I've pin'd for in vain?
And still I would die to revive,
And suffer with Jesus to reign.
3 Ah! give me to bow my faint head.
My sorrowful soul to resign,
From pain everlastingly freed,
To rest in thy bosom divine.
My Saviour why dost thou delay,
To call a poor wanderer home?
Come quickly, and bear me away
The bride and the spirit say "Come."