In the re­sur­rect­ion morn­ing,
When the Sav­ior comes, ’tis said,
Robed in all His white adorn­ing,
He will raise the si­lent dead;
With the migh­ty trum­pet sound,
Wake the na­tions from the ground;
Lost of ag­es shall be found
In the re­sur­rect­ion morn.

Refrain

In the re­sur­rect­ion morning,
We shall hear the trum­pet sound;
Christ will come in white adorn­ing,
With ma­jes­tic glo­ry crowned.

In the re­sur­rect­ion morn­ing,
Time will end for­ev­er here,
And the re­cords we are mak­ing,
At the judg­ment shall ap­pear.
All our mor­tal life below,
Must de­ter­mine where we’ll go,
Home above, or down to woe,
In the re­sur­rect­ion morn.

Refrain

In the re­sur­rect­ion morn­ing,
All the dead of ag­es past,
Both the right­eous and the wick­ed,
Each shall hear the trum­pet blast.
They shall stand before the Lord,
And re­ceive their own re­ward,
Judged by His eter­nal word,
In the re­sur­rect­ion morn.

Refrain

Then He’ll say unto the right­eous,
Come, ye bless­èd, live for aye
In the bright­est realms of glo­ry,
Where there shines one last­ing day.
Turning to the lost, He’ll say,
There in out­er dark­ness stay,
You have tri­fled time away—
Sinner, this is your re­ward.

Refrain