1 Awake, our souls; away, our fears;
let every trembling thought be gone;
awake and run the heavenly race,
and put a cheerful courage on.
2 True, 'tis a strait and thorny road,
and mortal spirits tire and faint;
but they forget the mighty God
that feeds the strength of every saint:
3 The mighty God, whose matchless power
is ever new and ever young,
and firm endures, while endless years
their everlasting circles run.
4 From thee, the overflowing spring,
our souls shall drink a fresh supply,
while such as trust their native strength
shall melt away, and droop, and die.
5 Swift as an eagle cuts the air,
we'll mount aloft to thine abode;
on wings of love our souls shall fly,
nor tire amidst the heavenly road.
Source: Ancient and Modern: hymns and songs for refreshing worship #115
|First Line:||Awake, our souls; away, our fears|
|Title:||Awake, Our Souls; Away, Our Fears|