The day of life is closing,

Its last faint beam has fled;

Yet faith, on Christ reposing,

Can Death’s cold waters tread;

The dark sea spreads before me,

Upon the brink I stand;

Oh, guide me, Lord of Glory,

To Heaven’s blissful strand!

To Thee, Lord, I flee,

My trust is in Thee;

“O death, where is thy sting? O grave, thy victory?”

No longer here detain me,

I hear my Saviour’s voice,

I feel His arm sustain me,

I triumph and rejoice!