I call the world’s Re­deem­er mine:
He lives who died for me, I know,
Who bought my soul with blood di­vine,
Jesus shall re-ap­pear be­low,
Stand in that dread­ful day un­known,
And fix on earth His hea­ven­ly throne.

Then the last judg­ment-day shall come;
And though the worms this skin de­vour,
The Judge shall call me from my tomb,
Shall bid the greedy grave re­store,
And raise this in­di­vi­du­al me,
God in the flesh, my God, to see.

In this ident­ic bo­dy I,
With eyes of flesh re­fined, re­stored,
Shall see that self-same Sav­ior nigh,
See for my­self my smil­ing Lord,
See with in­ef­fa­ble de­light;
Nor faint to bear the glo­ri­ous sight.

Then let the worms de­mand their prey,
The greedy grave my reins con­sume;
With joy I drop my mol­der­ing clay,
And rest till my Re­deem­er come;
On Christ, my life, in death re­ly,
Secure that I can ne­ver die.