Shall man, O God of light and life,
Forever molder in the grave?
Canst Thou forget Thy glorious work,
Thy promise, and Thy power to save?
But in those silent realms of night,
Shall peace and hope no more arise?
No future morning light the tomb,
Nor daystar gild the darksome skies?
Cease, cease, ye vain, desponding fears:
When Christ, our Lord, from darkness sprang,
Death, the last foe, was captive led,
And Heaven with praise and wonder rang.
Faith sees the bright, eternal doors
Unfold, to make His children way;
They shall be clothed with endless life,
And shine in everlasting day.