1 Awake, ye saints, and lift your eyes
And raise your voices high;
Away, and praise that sovereign love
Which shews salvation nigh.
2 On all the wings of time it flies,
Each moment brings it near:
Then welcome each declining day;
And each revolving year!
3 Not many years their round shall run,
Nor many mornings rise,
Ere all its glories stand reveal'd
To our admiring eyes.
4 Ye wheels of nature, speed your course
Ye mortal powers, decay;
Fast as ye bring the night of death,
Ye bring eternal day.
|First Line:||Awake, ye saints, and lift your eyes|