AWAKE, our souls, away, our fears,
Let every trembling thought be gone;
Awake and run the heavenly race,
And put a cheerful courage on.
2 True, 't is a straight and thorny road,
And mortal spirits tire and faint;
But they forget the mighty God,
Who feeds the strength of every saint.
3 The mighty God, Whose matchless power
Is ever new and ever young,
Shall firm endure while endless years
Their everlasting circles run.
4 From Thee, the ever-flowing spring,
Our souls shall drink a fresh supply;
While such as trust their native strength,
Shall melt away, and droop and die.
5 Swift as an eagle cuts the air,
We'll mount aloft to thine abode; On wings of love our souls shall fly, Nor tire amid the heavenly road.
GOD of Jacob, by whose hand
Thy people still are fed;
Who, through this weary pilgrimage,
Hast all our fathers led!
2 To Thee our humble vows we raise,
To Thee address our prayer;
And in Thy kind and faithful breast
Deposit all our care.
3 Through each perplexing path of life
Our wandering footsteps guide;
Give us each day our daily bread
And raiment fit provide.
4 Oh, spread Thy covering wings around,
Till all our wanderings cease,
And at our Father's loved abode
Our souls arrive in peace!
5 To Thee, as to our cov'nant God,
We'll our whole selves resign;
And thankful own that all we are,
And all we have, is Thine.
HINE on our souls, eternal God!
With rays of mercy shine:
Oh, let Thy favor crown our days,
Ánd their whole course be Thine.
2 Did we not raise our hands to Thee,
Our hands might toil in vain:
Small joy success itself could give,
If Thou Thy love restrain.
3 'Tis ours the furrows to prepare,
And sow the precious grain:
'Tis Thine to give the sun and air,
And to command the rain.
4 With Thee let every week begin,
With Thee each day be spent,
For Thee each fleeting hour improved,
Since each by Thee is lent.
5 Thus cheer us through this toilsome road
Till all our labors cease;
And thus prepare our weary souls
For everlasting peace.
LORD, I would spread my sore distress
And guilt before Thine eyes;
Against Thy laws, against Thy grace,
How high my crimes arise !
2 I from the stock of Adam came,
Unholy and unclean;
All my original is shame,
And all my nature sin.
3 Cleanse me, O Lord, and cheer my soul
With Thy forgiving love;
Oh, make my broken spirit whole,
And bid my pains remove
4 Let not Thy Spirit e'er depart,
Nor drive me from Thy face;
Create anew my sinful heart,
And fill it with Thy grace.
EEP in the dust before Thy throne, Our guilt and our disgrace we own; Great God! we own the unhappy name Whence sprung our nature and our shame,
2 But whilst our spirits, filled with awe,
Behold the terrors of Thy law,
We sing the honors of Thy grace,
That sent to save our ruin'd race.
3 We sing Thine everlasting Son;
Who join'd our nature to His own;
The second Adam, from the dust,
Raises the ruins of the first.
4 Where sin did reign, and death abound,
There have the sons of Adam found
Abounding life; there glorious grace
Reigns through the Lord our righteousness
URIED in shadows of the night,
We lie till Christ restores the light;
Wisdom descends to heal the blind,
And chase the darkness of the mind.
2 Our very frame is mix'd with sin;
His Spirit makes our nature clean;
Such virtues from His suff'rings flow,
At once to cleanse and pardon too.
3 Jesus beholds where Satan reigns,
Binding his slaves in heavy chains;
He sets the prisoners free, and breaks
The iron bondage from our necks.
4 Poor, helpless worms in Thee possess
Grace, wisdom, power and righteousness;
Thou art our mighty all, and we
Give our whole selves, O Lord, to Thee.
NIN has a thousand treacherous arts
To practise on the mind;
With flatt'ring looks she tempts our nearts,
But leaves a sting behind.
2 With names of virtue she deceives
The aged and the young;
And while the heedless wretch believes,
She makes his fetters strong.
3 She pleads for all the joys she brings,
And gives a fair pretence;
But cheats the soul of heavenly things,
And chains it down to sense.
4 So on a tree divinely fair
Grew the forbidden food;
Our mother took the poison there,
And tainted all her blood.
LORD, what a thoughtless wretch was I,
To mourn, and murmur, and repine
To see the wicked placed on high,
In pride and robes of honor shine!
2 But, oh, their end, their dreadful end!
Thy sanctuary taught me so:
On slipp'ry rocks I see them stand,
And fiery billows roll below.
3 Their fancied joys, how fast they flee!
Like dreams, as fleeting and as vain,
Their songs of softest harmony
Are but a prelude to their pain.
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