Death will come to every one in this world of woe,
For the sentence fell on the high and low;
All shall lie beneath the sod till the trump of God,
Bids them rise and to the judgment go.
We’ll arise, we’ll arise, in the resurrection morn;
We’ll arise, we’ll arise, when the Lord in glory comes;
All the righteous will ascend to their final home,
And the lost will perish forevermore;
We’ll arise, we’ll arise, in the resurrection morn.
Not the body that shall be is the sleeping clay,
It is as a seed that will soon decay,
But another plant shall rise toward the sunny skies,
Which shall bloom in beauty all the day.
When the Savior shall appear, He shall bring once more
All the souls that pass to the other shore;
All the sleeping bodies then shall be raised again,
And fore’er mortality be o’er.