Hark! A voice divides the sky, happy are the faithful dead! In the Lord who sweetly die, they from all their toils are freed; Them the Spirit hath declared blessed, unutterably blessed; Jesus is their great reward, Jesus is their endless rest.
Followed by their works, they go where their Head has gone before; Reconciled by grace below, grace has opened mercy’s door; Justified through faith alone, here they knew their sins forgiven, Here they laid their burden down, hallowed, and made fit for heaven.
Who can now lament the lot of a saint in Christ deceased? Let the world, who know us not, call us hopeless and unblessed: When from flesh the spirit freed hastens homeward to return, Mortals cry, “A man is dead!” Angels sing, “A child is born!”
Born into the world above, they our happy brother greet, Bear him to the throne of love, place him at the Savior’s feet; Jesus smiles, and says, “Well done, good and faithful servant thou; Enter, and receive thy crown, reign with Me triumphant now.”
Angels catch the approving sound, bow, and bless the just award; Hail the heir with glory crowned, now rejoicing with his Lord: Fuller joys ordained to know, waiting for the general doom, When the archangel’s trump shall blow, “Rise, ye dead, to judgment come!”
“Servant of God, well done! Rest from thy loved employ; The battle fought, the victory won, Enter thy Master’s joy.” The voice at midnight came; He started up to hear; A mortal arrow pierced his frame: He fell, but felt no fear.
Tranquil amid alarms, It found him on the field, A veteran, slumbering on his arms, Beneath his red cross shield. His sword was in his hand, Still warm with recent fight, Ready that moment, at command, Through rock and steel to smite.
The pains of death are past, Labor and sorrow cease; And, life’s long warfare closed at last, His soul is found in peace. Soldier of Christ, well done! Praise be thy new employ; And while eternal ages run, Rest in thy Savior’s joy.