1 Great God, I own thy Sentence just;
And Nature must decay;
I yield my Body to the Dust,
To dwell with Fellow-Clay.

2 Yet Faith may Triumph o'er the Graves,
And Trample on the Tombs
My Jesus, my Redeemer lives;
My God my Saviour comes.

3 The mighty Conqu'ror shall appear
High on a Royal Seat,
And Death, the last of all his Foes,
Lie vanquish'd at his Feet.

4 Tho' greedy Worms devour my Skin,
And gnaw my wasting Flesh,
When God shall build my Bones again,
He clothes them all afresh:

5 Then shall I see thy lovely Face
With Strong immortal Eyes;
And feast upon thy unknown Grace
With Pleasure and Surprize.