1 Oft as the bell, with solemn toll,
Speaks the departure of a soul,
Let each one ask himself, "Am I
Prepar'd, should I be call'd to die?"
2 Only this frail and fleeting breath
Preserves me from the jaws of death;
Soon as it fails, at once I'm gone,
And plung'd into a world unknown.
3 Then leaving all I lov'd below,
To God's tribunal I must go;
Must hear the judge pronounce my fate,
And fix my everlasting state.
4 Lord Jesus! help me now to flee,
And seek my hope alone in thee;
Apply thy blood, thy Spirit give,
Subdue my sin, and let me live.
5 Then when the solemn bell I hear,
If sav'd from guilt, I need not fear;
Now would the thought distressing be,
Perhaps it next may toll for me.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Oft as the bell, with solemn toll |
Meter: | L. M. |
Publication Date: | 1828 |
Topic: | Death; The Tolling Bell |