1 Sleep, thou dust and ashes, sleep;
When the trump shall wake the dead,
Pure immortal, thou shalt leap
From thy narrow, earthy bed;
Like an angel thou shalt fly,
Far above the starry sky.
2 Grant, Thou Triune Deity,
We, with him, may then arise,
Hear Thee in benignity
Bid us reign above the skies,
Strike our golden harps above,
In the bright abode of love.