Happy soul, thy days are end­ed,
All thy mourn­ing days be­low:
Go, by an­gel guards at­tend­ed,
To the sight of Je­sus go!
Waiting to re­ceive thy spir­it,
Lo! the Sav­ior stands above,
Shows the pur­chase of His mer­it,
Reaches out the crown of love.

Struggle through thy lat­est pas­sion
To thy dear Re­deem­er’s breast,
To His ut­te­rmost sal­va­tion,
To His ev­er­last­ing rest:
For the joy He sets be­fore thee,
Bear a mo­men­ta­ry pain,
Die, to live the life of glo­ry,
Suffer, with thy Lord to reign.