The dead and living saints meeting.

THE time draws nigh, when from the clouds, Christ shall with pow'r descend; And the last trumpet's awful voice, The heav'ns and earth shall rend.

Then they who live shall changed be, And they who sleep shall wake; The graves shall yield their ancient charge, While earth's foundations shake.

The saints of God, from death set free, With joy shall mount on high; The heav'nly hosts, with praises loud, Shall meet them in the sky. A few short years of exile past, We reach the happy shore; Where death divided friends, at last, Shall meet to part no more.