Awake and sing, ye that dwell in the dust.

SOON shall the trump of God Give out the welcome sound, That shake's death's silent chamber-walls, And breaks the turf-sealed ground.

Ye dwellers in the dust, Awake, come forth and sing; Sharp has your frost of winter been, But bright shall be your spring.

'Twas sown in weakness here; 'Twill then be raised in power; That which was sown an earthly seed Shall rise a heavenly flower.