We Shall Rise

On the pro­mised third day morn­ing

Jesus walked from Jo­seph’s tomb;

Thus on Sa­tan He served warn­ing

Of an ev­er­last­ing doom;

For the grave could not re­tain Him

Though the hu­man path He trod

But the bands of death must yield Him

As He was the Son of God.

This gives hope in Je­sus’ com­ing

For the saints who sleep in Him;

They shall wak­en in the morn­ing

Then their eyes shall ne’er grow dim;

Tho’ by na­ture they are mor­tal

And are sub­ject to de­cline

They shall then be made im­mor­tal

And in Je­sus’ im­age shine.

When the graves give up their trea­sure

And the dead to life are brought

Then their joy no one can mea­sure

Who with Je­sus’ blood were bought;

For the pro­phets have been writ­ing

Of that day so soon to come;

And a few are still de­light­ing

In the thought of home

sweet home.

Glory! Glory be to Je­sus!

For this re­sur­rect­ion hope;

How it thrills and tends to shield us

In the midst of much false hope;

We will tell it

we will sing it

While we wait the day fore­told;

Still we’ll tell it

and will sing it

When we walk the streets of gold.