  Out of the blindness and the night Into clear and constant light. Out of the weariness and pain Into everlasting gain. Out of the toil and durance hard Out of the doubting and distress Into certain blessedness. Out of the dusty lanes of care Into pastures green and fair. Out of the glaring desert sun To shades where cooling waters run. Out of the din of woe and wrong Into choral waves of song Out of the dwelling, worn and old, Into the city of pearl and gold. Where now, O Death, where is thy sting? Thou art the summons to the King. O Grave, where is thy victory? Thou art the gateway to the free! |
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