Full Lyrics
Jesus, our great high priest, was slain,
Up to his Father's throne he flies;
Death and the grave may boast in vain,
In him our strength and safety lies.
Triumphant thoughts may still be sung,
Hope is not bounded on the grave;
Beyond the grave our chiefest song
Runs through the space of endless days.
Open your eyes, ye sleeping dust,
Come forth! the great Redeemer cries;
Kingdoms and realms their slumbers burst,
And saints shall in his image rise.
