When the last trumpet’s awful voice
This rending earth shall shake,
When op’ning graves shall yield their charge,
And dust to life awake,
Those bodies that corrupted fell
Shall incorrupt arise,
And mortal forms shall spring to life
Immortal in the skies.

Behold, what heav’nly prophets sung
Is now at last fulfill’d;
And Death yields up his ancient reign,
And vanquish’d quits the field,
Let faith exalt her joyful voice,
And now in triumph sing:
O grave, where is thy victory?
And where, O Death, thy sting?

Recordings 1, 2, 3, 4