AWAKE, our souls! away, our fears! Let every trembling thought be gone! Awake,...

AWAKE, our souls! away, our fears! Let every trembling thought be gone! Awake, and run the heavenly race, And put a cheerful courage on.

True, 'tis a strait and thorny road, And mortal spirits tire and faint; But they forget the mighty God, That feeds the strength of every saint.

O mighty God, thy matchless power Is ever new, and ever young; And firm endures, while endless years Their everlasting circles run.

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.

Swift as the eagle cuts the air, We'll mount aloft to thine abode; On wings of love our souls shall fly, Nor tire along the heavenly road.