1 I would not live alway; I ask not to stay
Where storm after storm rises dark o’er the way.
The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here
Suffice for life’s woes, are enough for its cheer.
2 I would not live always; thus fettered by sin,
Temptation without and corruption within;
E’en rapture of pardon is mingled with fears,
The cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears.
3 I would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb:
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom.
There sweet be my rest till He bid me arise
To hail Him in triumph descending the skies.
4 Ah, who would live alway, away from his God,
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode,
Where rivers of pleasure flow o’er the bright plains
And noontide of glory eternally reigns;
5 Where saints of all ages in harmony meet,
Their Savior and brethren transported to greet,
While anthems of rapture unceasingly roll,
And smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul?
|First Line:||I would not live alway; I ask not to stay|
|Title:||I Would Not Live Alway; I Ask Not to Stay|
|Author:||William A. Mühlenberg (1824, cento. alt.)|
|Topic:||The Last Things: Death and Burial|
|Source:||Welsh melody, c. 1600|