- Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve,
And press with vigor on;
A heavenly race demands your zeal,
And an immortal crown.
- A cloud of witnesses around
Holds you in full survey;
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge your way.
- For God's all-animating voice
Still calls us to the race;
And God's own hand still gives the prize
With never-ending grace.
- O Saviour, shown the way by you,
I have my race begun;
And, crowned with victory, at your feet
I'll lay my honors down. Amen.