1 Awake, my soul, stretch ev'ry nerve,
And press with vigor on;
A heav'nly race demands your zeal,
And an immortal crown,
And an immortal crown.
2 A cloud of witnesses around
Hold you in full survey;
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge your way,
And onward urge your way.
3 'Tis God's all-animating voice
That calls you from on high;
'Tis his own hand presents the prize
To your aspiring eye,
To your aspiring eye.
4 That prize with peerless glories bright,
Which shall new lustre boast,
When victors' wreaths and monarch's gems
Shall blend in common dust,
Shall blend in common dust.
5 Blest Saviour, introduced by you,
Have I my race begun;
And, crowned with vict'ry, at your feet
I'll lay my honors down,
I'll lay my honors down.
|First Line:||Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve|
|Title:||Awake, My Soul, Stretch Every Nerve|
|Author:||Philip Doddridge (1755; Mod.)|
|Scripture:||Hebrews 12:2; 2 Timothy 4:8; 1 Corinthians 9:24-25; Ephesians 6:10-11; Hebrews 12:1; Philippians 3:14; 1 Corinthians 9|
|Topic:||The Christian Life: Christian Warfare; Pilgrimage and Guidance; The Christian Race1 more...|
|Arranger:||Lowell Mason (1821)|
|Composer:||George Frederick Handel (1728)|
|Source:||From George Frederick Handel, Siroe,1728|