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Verse 1

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

Verse 2

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

Verse 3

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

Verse 4

Blest Savior, introduced by thee
Have we our race begun;
And, crowned with vict’ry, at thy feet
We’ll lay our laurels down.

Verse 1

Blest is the man, whose softening heart
Feels all another’s pain;
To whom the supplicating eye
Was never raised in vain;--

Verse 2

Whose breast expands with generous warmth,
A stranger’s woes to feel,
And bleeds in pity o’er the wound
He wants the power to heal.

Verse 3

He spreads his kind supporting arms
To every child of grief;
Hie secret bounty largely flows,
And brings unasked relief.

Verse 4

To gentle offices of love,
His feet are never slow;
He views, through mercy’s melting eye,
A brother in a foe.

Verse 1

A charge to keep I have,
A God to glorify;
A never-dying-soul to save,
And fit it for the sky:—

Verse 2

To serve the present age,
My calling to fulfill,—
Oh! may it all my powers engage—
To do my Master’s will.

Verse 3

Arm me with jealous care,
As in thy sight to live;
And, oh, thy servant, Lord! prepare
A strict account to give.

Verse 4

Help me to watch and pray,
And on thyself rely;
Assured, if I my trust betray,
I shall forever die.

Verse 1

So let our lips and lives express
The holy gospel we profess;
So let our works and virtues shine
To prove the doctrine all divine.

Verse 2

Thus shall we best proclaim abroad
The honors of our Savior God;
When his salvation reigns within,
And grace subdues the power of sin.

Verse 3

Religion bears our spirits up,
While we expect that blessed hope,--
The bright appearance of the Lord;
And faith stands leaning on his word.

Verse 1

Blest is the man whose heart doth move,
And melt with pity to the poor;
Whose soul, by sympathizing love,
Feels what his fellow-saints endure.

Verse 2

His heart contrives, for their relief,
More good than his own hands can do;
He, in the time of general grief,
Shall find the Lord has pity too.

Verse 3

His soul shall live secure on earth,
With secret blessings on his head,
When drought, and pestilence, and dearth
Around him multiply their dead.

Verse 4

Or, if he languish on his couch,
God will pronounce his sins forgiven,
Will save him with a healing touch,
Or take his willing soul to heaven.

Verse 1

Come, we that love the Lord,
And let our joys be known,
Join in a song with sweet accord,
And thus surround the throne.

Refrain

We’re marching to Zion,
Beautiful, beautiful Zion,
We’re marching upward to Zion,
The beautiful city of God.

Verse 2

Let those refuse to sing
Who never knew our God;
But children of the heavenly King
May speak their joys abroad.

Verse 3

The hill of Zion yields
A thousand sacred sweets,
Before we reach the heavenly fields,
Or walk the golden streets.

Verse 4

Then let our songs abound,
And ev’ry tear be dry;
We’re marching thro’ Immanuel’s ground
To fairer worlds on high.

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.