Awake, our souls! away, our fears! Let every trembling thought be gone! Awake, and run the heavenly race, And put a cheerful courage on. True, ???tis a strait and thorny road, And mortal spirits tire and faint; But they forget the mighty God, That feeds the strength of every saint. O mighty God, Thy matchless power Is ever new, and ever young; And firm endures, while endless years Their everlasting circles run. From Thee, the ever flowing spring, Our souls shall drink a fresh supply; While such as trust their native strength Shall melt away, and droop, and die. Swift as the eagle cuts the air, We???ll mount aloft to Thine abode; On wings of love our souls shall fly, Nor tire along the heavenly road.
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