CCXXIV. Death and Glory

1 My soul, come meditate the day
And think how near it stands,
When thou must quit this house of clay
And fly to unknown lands.

2 And you, mine eyes, look down and view
The hollow, gaping tomb;
This gloomy prison waits for you,
Whene'er the summons come.

3 O! could we die with those that die,
And place us in their stead,
Then would our spirits learn to fly,
And converse with the dead:

4 Then should we see the saints above,
In their own glorious forms,
And wonder why our souls should love
To dwell with mortal worms.

5 How should we scorn these cloths of flesh,
These fetters, and this load;
And long for ev'ning to undress,
That we may rest with GOD.

6 We should almost forsake our clay,
Before the summons come,
And pray, and wish our souls away,
To their eternal home.

Text Information
First Line: My soul, come meditate the day
Title: Death and Glory
Author: Dr. Watts
Meter: Common Metre
Language: English
Publication Date: 1790
Topic: Funeral Occasions
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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