Resurrection of the Saints

Verse 1

And must this body die, This mortal frame decay? And must these active limbs of mine Lie mouldering in the clay?

Verse 2

God, my Redeemer lives, And ever from the skies Looks down and watches all my dust, Till He shall bid it rise.

Verse 3

Arrayed in glorious grace Shall these vile bodies shine, And every shape, and every face, Look heavenly and divine.

Verse 4

These lively hopes we owe To Jesus' dying love: We would adore His grace below And sing His power above.

Verse 5

Dear Lord, accept the praise Of these our humble songs, Till tunes of nobler sound we raise With our immortal tongues.