Gather Up, O Earth, Thy Dead

Gather up

O earth

thy dead

Grass! thy peace­ful pil­low spread;

Add an­oth­er mor­tal’s bed

To the bed where mor­tals sleep;

Where they sleep—but not to rise

When morn’s sun­light clears the skies

But to rest—while cen­tu­ries

Their long-dur­ing watch­es keep.

Centuries shall pass away

Earth shall hast­en to de­cay;

Days will bring of days the Day

When the ex­haust­ed cycles end;

Then earth’s ev­ery fu­gi­tive

Shall ap­pear—the grave shall give

Up its dead—the dead shall live

And the eter­nal Judge des­cend.

Day of won­ders! Day of woe!

Day of ev­il’s ov­er­throw!

Day of joy! when all shall know—

Know

and see the Lord of Heav­en—

Then

Oh

then

may hope ap­pear

Faith our faint­ing spir­its cheer

Love dry up the trem­bling tear

Whispering sweet­ly

Sins for­giv­en.