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1 Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace;
Rise from transitory things
Tow'rds heav'n, thy native place.
Sun and moon and stars decay,
Time shall soon this earth remove;
Rise, my soul, and haste away
To seats prepared above.
2 Rivers to the ocean run,
Nor stay in all their course;
Fire ascending seeks the sun;
Both speed them to their source:
So my soul that came from God
Longs to view His glorious face,
Forward tends to His abode,
To rest in His embrace.
3 Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn,
Press onward to the prize;
Soon our Saviour will return
Triumphant in the skies:
Yet a season, and you know
Happy entrance will be given,
All our sorrows left below,
And earth exchanged for heaven!
Amen.
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings |
| Title: | Rise, My Soul, and Stretch Thy Wings |
| Author: | Robert Seagrave |
| Publication Date: | 1937 |
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