The Bodies of the Saints Quickened and Raised by the Spirit

1 Why should our mourning thoughts delight,
To grovel in the dust?
Or why should streams of tears unite
Around th' expiring just.

2 Did not the Lord our savior die,
And triumph o'er the grave?
Did not our Lord ascend on high,
And prove his power to save?

3 Doth not the sacred spirit come,
And dwell in all the saints?
And should the temples of his grace
Resound with long complaints?

4 Awake, my soul, and like the sun
Burst thro' each sable cloud;
And thou, my voice, tho' broke with sighs,
Tune forth thy songs aloud.

5 The spirit rais'd my Savior up,
When he had bled for me;
And, spite his death and hell, shall rise
Thy pious friends and thee.

6 Awake, ye saints, that dwell in dust,
Your hymns of victory sing?
And let his dying servants trust
Their ever-living king.

Source: A Selection of Hymns: from the best authors, intended to be an appendix to Dr. Watt's psalms and hymns. (1st Am. ed.) #DLXVIII