Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord.
Rev. 14:13.
Hear what the voice from heav'n proclaims,
For all the pious dead;
Sweet is the savor of their names,
And soft their sleeping bed.
They die in Jesus, and are blest;
How kind their slumbers are!
From suff'rings and from sins released,
And freed from every snare.
Far from this world of toil and strife,
They're present with the Lord;
The labors of their mortal life
End in a large reward.
Hymn 18
Isaac Watts
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Poem topics: life, world, voice, sweet, hear, soft, large, jesus, strife, reward, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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