| Text: | Running the Christian Race |
| Author: | Dr. Doddridge |
1 Awake, my soul, stretch ev'ry nerve,
And press with vigor on:
An heavenly race demands thy zeal,
And an immortal crown.
2 'Tis God's all animating voice,
That calls thee from on high:
'Tis hos own hand presents the prize,
To thine aspiring eye.
3 A cloud of witnesses around
Hold thee if full survey;
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge thy way.
4 Bless'd Savior, introduc'd by thee,
Have we our race begun;
And crown'd with victory at thy feet
We lay our laurels down.
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | Awake, my soul, stretch ev'ry nerve |
| Title: | Running the Christian Race |
| Author: | Dr. Doddridge |
| Meter: | C. M. |
| Language: | English |
| Publication Date: | 1792 |
| Topic: | The Christian; Christian: Running the race; The Christian Race |
| Notes: | Public Domain. |