I set the Lord be­fore my face,
He bears my cour­age up;
My heart and tongue their joys ex­press,
My flesh shall rest in hope.

My spir­it, Lord, Thou wilt not leave
Where souls de­part­ed are;
Nor quit my bo­dy to the grave,
To see cor­rupt­ion there.

Thou wilt re­veal the path of life,
And raise me to Thy throne;
Thy courts im­mor­tal plea­sure give,
Thy pre­sence joys un­known.

Thus, in the name of Christ, the Lord,
The ho­ly Da­vid sung;
And Pro­vi­dence ful­fills the word
Of his pro­phet­ic tongue.

Jesus, whom ev­ery saint ad­ores,
Was cru­ci­fied and slain:
Behold, the tomb its prey re­stores,
Behold, He lives again.

When shall my feet arise and stand
On Heav’n’s eter­nal hills?
There sits the Son at God’s right hand,
And there the Fa­ther smiles.