Rise, My Soul, and Stretch Thy Wings

Rise

my soul

and stretch thy wings

Thy bet­ter por­tion trace;

Rise from tran­si­to­ry things

Toward Heav­en

thy na­tive place:

Sun and moon and stars de­cay

Time shall soon this earth re­move;

Rise

my soul

and haste away

To seats pre­pared above.

Rivers to the ocean run

Nor stay in all their course;

Fire as­cend­ing seeks the sun;

Both speed them to their source:

So my soul

that’s born of God

Pants to view His glo­ri­ous face

Upward tends to His ab­ode

To rest in His em­brace.

Fly me rich­es

fly me cares

Whilst I that coast ex­plore;

Flattering world

with all thy snares

Solicit me no more.

Pilgrims fix not here their home;

Strangers tar­ry but a night;

When the last dear morn is come

They’ll rise to joy­ful light.

Cease

ye pil­grims

cease to mourn

Press on­ward to the prize;

Soon thy Sav­ior will re­turn

Triumphant in the skies:

Yet a sea­son

and you know

Happy en­trance will be giv­en

All our sor­rows left be­low

And earth ex­changed for Heav­en.