The Hymnal ‎#496

496. Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve

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

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

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

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

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

Amen.

Text Information

• First Line: Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve
• Author: Rev. Philip Doddridge (pub. 1755)
• Publication Date: 1895

Tune Information

(No tune information)