And what if no trumpet ever be sounded1
To rouse thee up from this rest of thine,2
If the grave be dark and never around it3
The rays of eternal morning shine ?4
For the rest He giveth, give God the praise ;5
Ye know how often, ye hearts that ache,6
In the restless nights of the listless days7
Ye have longed to slumber, nor wished to wake.8