Awake, ye saints, and raise your eyes
1
Awake, ye saints, and raise your eyes,And raise your voices high;Awake, and praise that sovereign loveThat shows salvation nigh.
2
Swift on the wings of time it flies;Each moment brings it near;Then welcome each declining day,Welcome each closing year.
3
Not many years their round shall run,Not many mornings rise,Ere all its glories stand revealedTo our admiring eyes.
4
Ye wheels of nature, speed your course!Ye mortal powers, decay!Haste! till the last glad morning riseThat brings eternal day.