Thou who has blest my soul with rest,
Now of Thy rest partakest:
My dead spirit, by Thy death,
Thou from sleep awakest.
Thou, my life’s breath, art cold in death:
This hath Thy love procurèd:
Oh the fervor of that love
Which e’en death endurèd!
True life I know from Thee doth flow;
Thy voice will me awaken:
Shall my heart that hopes in Thee
Be with terrors shaken?
This dust that lies, securely lies,
And shall be raised immortal:
Then in light adorned, it shall
Burst death’s gloomy portal.
For Thy repose from all Thy woes,
Take, Lord, my thankful spirit:
Daily thoughts of thankful love,
Lord, Thy death doth merit.