The Christian's Contest, Rest, and Hope.
1 Through sorrow's night and danger's way
Amid the deepening gloom,
The soldiers of an injured King
Are marching to the tomb.
2 Their service done, securely laid
In this their last retreat,
Unheeded o'er their silent dust
The storms of life shall beat.
3 Yet not thus lifeless in the grave
The vital spark shall lie;
O'er nature's ruins it shall rise,
To reach its kindred sky.
4 Then heaven's soft dew o'er every eye
Shall shed its mildest rays;
And the long silent dust shall wake
In strains of endless praise.