1 Forsake, my soul! the tents of sin,
How false her joys appear!
Noise and confusion dwell within;
Peace is a stranger there.
2 The men, who keep the laws of God,
His choicest blessings share;
Or, if he lifts his chast'ning rod,
'Tis with a Father's care.
3 His mighty pow'r shall guard the just;
His wisdom point their way;
His eye shall watch their sleeping dust;
His hand revive their clay.
4 Begin, ye saints, the joyful task;
His praise employ your tongue;
And soon eternity will ask
A more exalted song.
Source: A Collection of Hymns and Prayers, for Public and Private Worship #284