THE HAND OF DEATH.

The hand of death strikes at any hour,
Stealing from us our mortal power;
Snatches away our every heartbeat,
Leaving our ending full and complete.

We all must cross that great divide,
From that moment none of can hide!
Are we ready for our final ending,
Our eternal souls on God depending?

When death comes to gather up your soul,
Has it been cleansed by God's grace, made whole?
Have you been washed in the blood of the Lamb,
Ready to meet the Lord, the great I Am?

Carried up in His precious grip,
From which you will never ever slip!
On Christ the solid Rock do you stand,
Forever held in eternal hands?