Dying Hymn

Earth, with its dark and dreadful ills,
Recedes, and fades away;
Lift up your heads, ye heavenly hills;
Ye gates of death, give way!

My soul is full of whispered song,
My blindness is my sight;
The shadows that I feared so long
Are all alive with light.

The while my pulses faintly beat,
My faith doth so abound,
I feel grow firm beneath my feet
The green immortal ground.

That faith to me a courage gives
Low as the grave to go;
I know that my Redeemer lives:
That I shall live, I know.

The palace walls I almost see
Where dwells my Lord and King;
O grave, where is thy victory?
O death, where is thy sting?