Awake, My Soul, Stretch Every Nerve

Verse 1

Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve,
And press with vigor on;
A heavenly race demands thy zeal,
And an immortal crown.

Verse 2

A cloud of witnesses around
Hold thee in full survey:
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge thy way.

Verse 3

’Tis God’s all-animating voice
That calls thee from on high;
’Tis His own hand presents the prize
To thine aspiring eye:

Verse 4

That prize with peerless glories bright,
Which shall new lustre boast,
When victors’ wreaths and monarchs’ gems
Shall blend in common dust.

Verse 5

Blest Saviour, introduced by Thee,
Have I my race begun;
And, crowned with victory, at Thy feet
I’ll lay my honors down.