Classic Poem

Faith sings although the body dies,
The promise is enjoy'd:
This mortal shall immortal rise,
And death shall be destroy'd.

Where is thy killing sting, O death!
Addicted to devour;
Through grace we now despise thy wrath,
And we defy thy pow'r.

O grave! where is thy victory?
The bolted prison, where?
Our king victorious conquer'd thee,
And we the conquest share.

The sting of death is sin indeed,
The strength of sin the law;
But thence our law-fulfilling Head
Did sting and strength withdraw.

Thanks to the God of victory,
Who makes us thus, by faith,
In Christ, our living Head on high,
Triumphant over death.

Then stedfast may our hearts remain,
And in his work abound;
Through whom our labours not in vain,
With such an issue crown'd.