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Philip Doddridge·Post-Reformation
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.
Philip Doddridge, “Awake, My Soul, Stretch Every Nerve”
Presbyterian 1895 No. 496 · C.M. · Christmas
Philip Doddridge·Post-Reformation
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.
Gospel Hymns 1895 No. 677 · C.M. · Christmas