Out of the blindness and the night
Into clear and constant light.
Out of the weariness and pain
Into everlasting gain.
Out of the toil and durance hard
Into rest and rich reward.
Out of the doubting and distress
Into certain blessedness.
Out of the dusty lanes of care
Into pastures green and fair.
Out of the glaring desert sun
To shades where cooling waters run.
Out of the din of woe and wrong
Into choral waves of song
Out of the dwelling, worn and old,
Into the city of pearl and gold.
Where now, O Death, where is thy sting?
Thou art the summons to the King.
O Grave, where is thy victory?
Thou art the gateway to the free!