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Poem by Isaac Watts


Hymn 18


Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord.

Rev. 14:13.

Hear what the voice from heav'n proclaims,
For all the pious dead;
Sweet is the savor of their names,
And soft their sleeping bed.

They die in Jesus, and are blest;
How kind their slumbers are!
From suff'rings and from sins released,
And freed from every snare.

Far from this world of toil and strife,
They're present with the Lord;
The labors of their mortal life
End in a large reward. 



Isaac Watts


Isaac Watts's other poems:
  1. How Precious, Lord, Thy Sacred Word
  2. Examples of Early Piety
  3. Hymn 100
  4. Hymn 102
  5. Psalm 81


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