A Collection of Hymns and A Liturgy ‎#437

437. My soul, the awful hour will come

1 My soul, the awful hour will come,
Apace it passeth on,
To bear this body to the tomb,
And thee to scenes unknown.

2 My heart, long lab'ring with its woes,
Shall pant and sink away;
And you, my eye-lids, soon shall close
On the last glimm'ring ray.

3 Whence in that hour shall I receive
A cordial for my pain,
When, if earth's monarchs were my friends,
Those friends would weep in vain?

4 Great King of nature and of grace!
To thee my spirit flies,
And opens all its deep distress
Before thy pitying eyes.

5 All its desires to thee are known,
And ev'ry secret fear;
The meaning of each broken groan
Well-notic'd by thine ear.

6 O fix me by that mighty pow'r,
Which to such love belongs,
Where darkness veils the eyes no more,
And groans are chang'd to songs.

Text Information

• First Line: My soul, the awful hour will come
• Meter: C. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1814
• Topic: Particular Occasions and Circumstances: Sickness and Recovery

Tune Information

(No tune information)