The last lovely morning,
All blooming and fair,
Is fast onward fleeting,
And soon will appear.

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While the mighty, mighty, mighty trump
Sounds, Come, come away;
Oh, let us be ready
To hail the glad day.

And when that bright morning
In splendor shall dawn,
Our tears shall be ended,
Our sorrows all gone.

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The Bridegroom from glory
To earth shall descend,
Ten thousand bright angels
Around Him attend.

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The grave shall be opened,
The dead shall arise,
And with the Redeemer
Mount up to the skies.

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The saints, then immortal,
In glory shall reign,
The Bride with the Bridegroom
Forever remain.

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