1 O for an overcoming faith
To cheer my dying hours,
To triumph o'er the monster Death,
And all his frightful powers.
2 Joyful with all the strength I have
My quivering lips should sing,
|Where is thy boasted victory, Grave?
And where the monster's sting?|
3 If sin be pardon'd I'm secure,
Death hath no sting beside;
The law gives sin its damning power,
But Christ, my ransom, died.
4 Now to the God of victory
Immortal thanks be paid,
Who makes us conquerors while we die,
Thro' Christ our living head.