When God is nigh, my faith is strong;
His arm is my al­migh­ty prop:
Be glad, my heart; re­joice, my tongue;
My dy­ing flesh shall rest in hope.

Though in the dust I lay my head,
Yet, gra­cious God, Thou wilt not leave
My soul for ev­er with the dead,
Nor lose Thy child­ren in the grave.

My flesh shall Thy first call ob­ey,
Shake off the dust, and rise on high;
Then shalt Thou lead the won­drous way
Up to Thy throne above the sky.

There streams of end­less plea­sures flow;
And full dis­cov­er­ies of Thy grace
(Which we but tast­ed here be­low)
Spread heav’n­ly joys through all the place.