  When the chills of death creep upon this temple, And silently life shall steal away; Preserve the soul, O God, my Saviour, In rest until the Perfect Day. Undisturbed rest, and peaceful slumber, Prepared for those who will obey; Sleep, O soul, in peaceful slumber, Sleep until the Perfect Day. Nothing can ever fret or wake thee, Tho’ rocks and mountains fade away; Sleep, O soul, in peaceful slumber, Sleep until the Perfect Day. Life doth come just for a season, Then the body returns to clay; But the soul in sweetest slumber Shall rest until the Perfect Day. What a joy, what a blessing, When we shall hear the Master say, “Come, ye blessed of My Father,” Rest until the Perfect Day. Rest from cares, from frets and labor; Thou has walked the narrow way; Rest till the time on earth is finished— Rest until the Perfect Day. When all the saints are gathered together, And all in spotless robes’ array, Then around the throne praise God forever, Will this not be the Perfect Day? |
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