Sleep, Thou Dust and Ashes

Sleep

thou dust and ash­es

sleep;

When the trump shall wake the dead

Pure im­mor­tal

thou shalt leap

From thy nar­row

ear­thy bed;

Like an an­gel thou shalt fly

Far above the star­ry sky.

Grant

Thou Tri­une De­ity

We

with him

may then arise

Hear Thee in be­nign­ity

Bid us reign abo­ve the skies

Strike our gold­en harps ab­ove

In the bright ab­ode of love.