How Long Shall Death, the Tyrant, Reign?

How long shall death

the ty­rant reign

And tri­umph o’er the just

While the dear blood of mar­tyrs slain

Lies min­gled with the dust?

When shall the te­di­ous night be gone?

When will our Lord ap­pear?

Our fond de­sires would pray Him down

Our love em­brace Him here

Let faith arise

and climb the hills

And from afar des­cry

How dist­ant are His cha­ri­ot wheels

And tell how fast they fly.

Lo

I be­hold the scat­ter­ing shades

The dawn of Heav’n ap­pears

The sweet im­mor­tal morn­ing spreads

Its blush­es round the spheres

I see the Lord of glo­ry come

And flam­ing guards around:

The skies di­vide to make Him room

The trum­pet shakes the ground.

I hear the voice

Ye dead arise

And lo

the graves ob­ey

And wak­ing saints with joy­ful eyes

Salute th’ex­pect­ed day.

They leave the dust

and on the wing

Rise to the mid­dle air

In shin­ing gar­ments meet their king

And low ad­ore Him there.

O may my hum­ble spir­it stand

Amongst them clothed in white!

The mean­est place at His right hand

Is in­fi­nite de­light.

How will our joy and won­der rise

When our re­turn­ing king

Shall bear us home­ward through the skies

On love’s tri­umph­ant wing!