Hymn CCLXX. Common Metre. Victory over Death, thro' Christ

When death appears before my sight, In all his dire array; Unequal to the dreadful sight, My courage dies away.

How shall I meet this potent foe, Whose frown my soul alarms? Dark horror sits upon his brow! And vict'ry waits his arms!

But, see my glorious leader nigh! My Lord, my Saviour lives; Before him death's pale terrors fly, And my faint heart revives.

Jesus, be thou my sure defence, My guard forever near; My faith shall triumph over sense, And never yield to fear.

O, may I meet the final hour, With fortitude divine; Sustain'd by thine almighty power, The conquest must be mine.

Lord, I commit my soul to thee, Accept the sacred trust; Receive this nobler part of me, And watch my sleeping dust.

Till that illustrious morning come, When all thy saints shall rise; And cloth'd in thine immortal bloom, Attend thee to the skies.

O let me join their raptur'd lays, And with the blissful throng, Resound salvation, power and praise, In everlasting song.