And let our feeble bodies fail

And let our feeble bodies fail,
And let them faint and die;
We soon shall quit the mournful vale
And soar to worlds on high;

Shall join the glorified saints,
And find our long-sought rest,
That only bliss for which we pant,
In the Redeemer's breast.

In hope of that immortal crown,
We now the cross sustain;
And gladly wander up and down,
And smile at toil and pain.

We suffer on our threescore years,
Till our Deliv'rer come,
And wipe away his servants' tears,
And take his exiles home.