1 Our life how short! a groan, a sigh,
We live, and then begin to die;
Death steals upon us while we're green,
Behind us digs a grave unseen.

2 But Oh! how great a mercy this,
That death's a portal into bliss;
While yet the body's scarce undrest,
The soul ascends to heav'nly rest.

3 My soul! death swallows up thy fears,
My grave-clothes wipe away all tears;
why should we fear this parting pain,
Who die that we may live again?

4 Oh! how the resurrection light,
Will clarify believers' sight;
How joyful will the saints arise
And rub the dust from off their eyes!

5 My soul! my body I will trust
With him who numbers every dust;
My Saviour faithfully will keep
His own--their death is but a sleep.