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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. Psalm 46. Part 1 (God is the refuge of his saints)
  2. Hymn 99 (Let the whole race of creatures lie)
  3. Psalm 150 (In God's own house pronounce his praise)
  4. Psalm 136 (Give thanks to God most high)
  5. Psalm 121 (To heav'n I lift my waiting eyes)


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