Classic Poem

I SAID sometimes with tears,
Ah me! I'm loth to die!
Lord , silence Thou these fears:
My life's with Thee on high.
Sweet truth to me!
I shall arise,
And with these eyes
My Saviour see.

My life's a shade, my days
Apace to death decline;
My Lord is Life; He'll raise
My dust again, ev'n mine.
My peaceful grave shall keep
My bones till, that sweet day
I wake from my long sleep
And leave my bed of clay.

My Lord His angels shall
Their golden trumpets sound;
At whose most welcome call
My grave shall be unbound.
Sweet truth to me!
I shall arise,
And with these eyes
My Saviour see.