Earth, with Its Dark and Dreadful Ills

Earth

with all its dark and dread­ful ills

Recedes and fades away;

Lift up your heads

ye heav­en­ly hills

Ye gates of death

give way!

My soul is full of whis­pered song;

My blind­ness is my sight;

The sha­dows that I feared so long

Are all alive with light.

The while my puls­es faint­ly beat

My faith doth so abound;

I feel grow firm be­neath my feet

The green im­mor­tal ground.

That faith to me a cour­age gives

Low as the grave to go;

I know that my Re­deem­er lives—

That I shall live

I know.

The pal­ace walls I al­most see

Where dwells my Lord and king;

O grave! where is thy vic­to­ry?

O death! where is thy sting?