Hymn XCVIII. Common Metre. The Blessedness of departed Saints

Hark! from on high a solemn voice, Let all attentive hear! 'Twill make each pious heart rejoice, And vanquish every fear.

"Thrice blessed are the pious dead, Who in the Lord shall die; Their weary flesh as on a bed Safe in the grave shall lie.

"Their holy souls at length releas'd To heaven shall take their flight; There to enjoy eternal rest, And infinite delight.

"They drop each load as they ascend, And quit this world of woe; Their labours with their lives shall end, Their rest, no period know.

"Their conflicts with their busy foes For evermore shall cease; None shall their happiness oppose, Nor interrupt their peace.

"But bright rewards shall recompense Their faithful service here; And perfect love shall banish thence, Each gloomy doubt and fear."