My coward soul, why dost thou dread
To thy Redeemer Christ to go,
Who his heart's blood so freely shed,
To save thee from the insulting foe?

Why dost thou fear to try that coast,
Where Christ in endless bliss resides
With the great Sire, and th' Holy Ghost,
And all the glorious saints besides?

My Saviour, my Redeemer's gone
Before me to that sacred place.
Lord, draw thy member to thy throne,
And quicken thou my ling'ring pace!

Cheer up thy spirits - raise thy head -
Why wilt thou live in so much fear?
Behold thy Saviour's bloody bed,
There, now is nothing frightful there.

See, O my soul, thy Saviour come!
Thy Guardian, thy Protector see!
See there thy pardon! see thy home!
See there the joys prepar'd for thee!

Look not at sin, avert thy head
Lo! for thy sins the Lambkin bleeds!
Thy aweful Judge's looks ne'er dread,
Thy cause his darling Jesus pleads.

Fear not the jaundice-visag'd king,
Death can do nothing, but remove
(Since Christ has pluck'd away his sting)
Thee hence, unto the realms above.

Boldly the fiend's assaults despise,
Since angels night and day attend,
And Christ, the Lamb with seven eyes,
Thy soul each moment to defend.

The gloomy grave no longer dread,
Where Jesus, thy Redeemer, lay,
Who warm'd for all that clay-cold bed,
Until their resurrection-day.

The pains of hell no longer mind,
'Tis Christ, that keeps the key of fate;
'Tis Christ, the Saviour of mankind,
Of death and hell, who guards the gate.

Cheer up thy spirits, raise thy head,
Why wilt thou live in so much fear?
Behold thy Saviour's bloody bed,
There now is nothing frightful there!

Take comfort, rear thy downcast eyes,
Above this earthly ball aspire,
Observe the heavens, Jesus' prize!
The heav'ns, of which he made thee heir!

See there thy throne! see there thy crown!
Thy palm weav'd wreath! thy white array!
(Which Jesus bought and made thy own)
Above in the bright realms of day.

See Christ, and all th' angelic quire -
See all the saints, and just, above -
Who long to see thy soul aspire,
And fold thee in their arms of love.

Prepare thy lyre, thy viol bring -
Prepare thy hymns and sacred lays,
That thou above may'st boldly sing
A strain, to thy Redeemer's praise.

Then for thy dissolution cry,
And beg to go to Christ, thy spouse,
That thou may'st mount above the sky,
Releas'd from this vile prison-house:

Where God, and all th' angelic train,
The Son, and ev'ry saint of His,
Where his Apostles with him reign
In honour, joy, and endless bliss!

Where, there's no sickness, grief, or pain,
Where, there's no sorrow nor annoy,
Where neither Death nor sadness reign,
But everlasting bliss and joy.

Long then with rapid flight to move
To the bright mansions of the blest,
Where thy Redeemer dwells above,
And has prepar'd his nuptial feast.

But, O! take proper care to wear
Thy gorgeous jewels on thy breast,
That thou before him may'st appear
In all thy bridal fin'ry drest.

In David's well, or the Lamb's gore,
In tears of real penitence,
Cleanse all thy filth, and wash thee o'er,
In peace, true faith, and innocence.

Fill thou thy lamp with oil, and light
Thy candle, to avoid surprize,
Wake, watch, and pray, the live-long night,
And, 'till Christ comes, ne'er close thine eyes.

Awake, expect with sleepless eye
The hour, wherein thy spouse will come,
And, like the hart, ne'er cease to cry,
'Till Christ has made thy breast his home.

Say unto him - ''Tis time to move,'
Say - 'Come, O Lord, in haste to me!'
Say - 'Come, O Christ, my only love!
'O come, and draw my soul to thee!'

Into thy hand with pleasing thought
My soul, O gracious Lord! I give:
For, with a price, thou hast me bought ;
Then to thy mercy me receive!