When the last trumpet's awful voice

When the last trumpet's awful voiceThis rending earth shall shake,When opening graves shall yield their charge,And dust to life awake,—

Those bodies that corrupted fell,Shall incorrupt arise,And mortal forms shall spring to lifeImmortal in the skies.

Behold, what heavenly prophets sungIs now at last fulfilled;And Death yields up his ancient reign,And, vanquished, quits the field.

Let Faith exalt her joyful voice,And now in triumph sing:—O Grave, where is thy victory?And where, O Death, thy sting?