Death, Peace in

Verse 1

How blest the righteous when he dies!
When sinks a weary soul to rest!
How mildly beam the closing eyes!
How gently heaves the expiring breast!

Verse 2

So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o’er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.

Verse 3

A holy quiet reigns around,
A calm which life nor death destroys;
And naught disturbs that peace profound
Which his unfettered soul enjoys.

Verse 4

Life’s labor done, as sinks the clay,
Light from its load the spirit flies,
While heaven and earth combine to say,
How blest the righteous when he dies!

Verse 1

It is not death to die,--
To leave this weary road,
And, midst the brotherhood on high,
To be at home with God.

Verse 2

It is not death to close
The eye long dimmed by tears,
And wake, in glorious repose
To spend eternal years.

Verse 3

It is not death to fling
Aside this sinful dust,
And rise, on strong exulting wing,
To live among the just.

Verse 4

Jesus, thou Prince of life!
Thy chosen cannot die;
Like thee, they conquer in the strife,
To reign with thee on high.

Verse 1

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows, like sea-billows, roll;
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Refrain

It is well with my soul,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Verse 2

Tho’ Satan should buffet, tho’ trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed his own blood for my soul.

Verse 3

My sin--oh, the bliss of this glorious tho’t--
My sin--not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to his cross and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, oh, my soul!

Verse 4

And, Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll,
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
“Even so”--it is well with my soul.

Verse 1

Why do we mourn departing friends,
Or shake at death’s alarms?
’Tis but the voice that Jesus sends,
To call them to his arms.

Verse 2

Are we not tending upward, too,
As fast as time can move?
Nor would we wish the hours more slow,
To keep us from our love.

Verse 3

Why should we tremble to convey
Their bodies to the tomb?
There the dear flesh of Jesus lay,
And scattered all the gloom.

Verse 4

The graves of all the saints be blessed,
And softened every bed;
Where should the dying members rest,
But with the dying Head?

Verse 5

Thence he arose, ascending high,
And showed our feet the way;
Up to the Lord we, too, shall fly
At the great rising-day.

Verse 6

Then let the last loud trumpet sound,
And bid our kindred rise;
Awake! ye nations under ground;
Ye saints! ascend the skies.

Verse 1

Why should our tears in sorrow flow
When God recalls his own,
And bids them leave a world of woe,
For an immortal crown?

Verse 2

Is not e’en death a gain to those
Whose life to God was given?
Gladly to earth their eyes they close
To open them in heaven.

Verse 3

Their toils are past, their work is done,
And they are fully blest!
They fought the fight, the victory won,
And entered into rest.

Verse 4

Then let our sorrows cease to flow,--
God has recalled his own;
But let our hearts, in every woe,
Still say, “Thy will be done!”