These lines are supposed to be the utterance of the saints at the blessed moment when they are actually ascending to meet the Lord in the air, as described in 1 Cor. 15:51-5751Behold, I show you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, 52In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. 53For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. 54So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. 55O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? 56The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. 57But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 15:51‑57); and 1 Thess. 4:16-1816For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: 17Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. 18Wherefore comfort one another with these words. (1 Thessalonians 4:16‑18).
“O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”
HARK to the trump! behold it breaks
The sleep of ages now:
And lo! the light of glory shines
On many an aching brow.
Changed in a moment—raised to life,
The quick, the dead arise,
Responsive to the angel's voice,
That calls us to the skies.
Ascending through the crowded air,
On eagles' wings we soar,
To dwell in the full joy of love,
And sorrow there no more.
Undazzled by the glorious light,
Of that beloved brow,
We see, without a single cloud,
We see the Savior now!
O Lord, the bright and blessed hope
That cheer'd us through the past,
Of full eternal rest in thee,
Is all fulfill'd at last.
The cry of sorrow here is hush'd,
The voice of prayer is o'er;
'Tis needless now-for, Lord, we crave
Thy gracious help no more.
Praise, endless praise, alone becomes
This bright and blessed place,
Where every eye beholds unveil' d
The mysteries of thy grace.
Past conflict here, O Lord, 'tis ours,
Through everlasting days,
To sing our song of victory now,
And only live to praise.