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Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve |
Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve,
And press with vigor on;
A heavenly race demands thy zeal,
And an immortal crown,
And an immortal crown.
A cloud of witnesses around
Hold you in full survey;
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge your way,
And onward urge your way.
’Tis God’s all animating voice
That calls you from on high;
’Tis His own hand presents the prize
To your aspiring eye,
To your aspiring eye.
That prize with peerless glories bright,
Which shall new lustre boast,
When victor's wreaths and monarch's gems
Shall blend in common dust,
Shall blend in common dust.
Blest Savior introduced by you
Have I my race begun
And crowned with vict'ry, at your feet
I'll lay my honors down,
I'll lay my honors down. Amen.
Words: Phillip Doddridge
Music: Christmas
Meter: 8.6.8.6.6