Ashes to … Glory!

1095 C. M.
Awaking from the dust with shouts of praise.

THROUGH sorrow’s night, and danger’s path,
   Amid the deep’ning gloom,
   We, foll’wers of our suff’ring Lord,
   Are marching to the tomb.

2 There, when the turmoil is no more
   And all our powers decay,
   Our cold remains in solitude
   Shall sleep the years away.

3 Our labours done, securely laid
   In this our last retreat,
   Unheeded, o’er our silent dust,
   The storms of earth may beat.

4 Yet not thus buried, or extinct,
   The vital spark shall lie;
   For o’er life’s wreck that spark shall rise
   To seek its kindred sky.

5 These ashes, too, this little dust,
   Our Father’s care shall keep,
   Till the last angel rise and break
   The long and dreary sleep.
                         H. K. White
                         Methodist Episcopal hymnal (1870 edition)