When the Last Trumpet’s Awful Voice

When the last trum­pet’s aw­ful voice

This rend­ing earth shall shake;

When op­en­ing graves shall yield their charge

And dust to life awake;

Those bodies that cor­rupt­ed fell

Shall in­cor­rupt arise

And mor­tal forms shall spring to life

Immortal in the skies.

Behold

what heav­en­ly pro­phets sung

Is now at last ful­filled;

And Death yields up his an­cient reign

And

van­quished

quits the field.

Let Faith ex­alt her joy­ful voice

And now in tri­umph sing:

O Grave

where is thy vic­to­ry?

And where

O Death

thy sting?