University of Virginia Library

HYMN 48. (L. M.) The Christian Race, Isaiah xl. 28–31.

I

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

II

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—

III

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

IV

From thee the overflowing spring,
Our souls shall drink a fresh supply,
While such as trust their native strength
Shall melt away, and drop and die.

V

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