The Hymnal ‎#590

590. Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings

1 Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace;
Rise from transitory things
Towards 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.

2 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, derived from God,
Pants to view His glorious face,
Forward tends to His abode,
To rest is His embrace.

3 Fly me riches, fly me cares,
Whist 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 a joyful light.

4 Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn,
Press onward to the prize;
Soon our Saviour 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.

Amen.

Text Information

• First Line: Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings
• Author: Rev. Robert Seagrave (1742)
• Publication Date: 1895

Tune Information

(No tune information)