The Angels in the Air

When life’s la­bor song is sung

And the eb­on arch is sprung

O’er the shad­ed couch of death so still

Then the Lord will light the scene

With the an­gels’ star­ry sheen

As they wel­come us to Zi­on’s hill.

We’ll meet each oth­er there

Yes! we’ll meet each oth­er there

With the an­gels in the air

Yes

we’ll meet each oth­er there;

We’ll meet each oth­er there

Yes! we’ll meet each oth­er there

With the an­gels

with the an­gels in the air.

Dark the sha­dows in the vale

Fierce the howl­ing of the gale

But the shin­ing ones are near our door;

With our robes as bright as they

We will tread the star­ry way

With the sha­dow and the storm no more.

Flood the heart with part­ing tears

Frost the head with pass­ing years

Mingle want and woe to­ge­ther here—

But the Lord will lift the cloud

That en­wraps the shin­ing crowd

And we’ll nev­er know a sor­row there.