Awake, our souls; away, our fears: Difference between revisions

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==General information==
==General information==
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This is an hymn by [[Isaac Watts]], his Hymn 48 of Book 1, published 1709.


==Settings by composers==
==Settings by composers==
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{{Text|Latin}} <!--replace with correct language-->
{{Text|English|
<poem>
Awake, our souls; away, our fears,
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Let every trembling thought begone;
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Awake, and run the heavenly race,
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And put a cheerful courage on.
</poem>


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True, 'tis a strait and thorny road,
And mortal spirits tire and faint;
But they forget the mighty God,
That feeds the strength of every saint.
 
Thee, mighty God! whose matchless power
Is ever new and ever young,
And firm endures, while endless years
Their everlasting circles run.


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From Thee, the overflowing spring,
{{Translation|English}} <!--replace with correct language-->
Our souls shall drink a fresh supply,
<poem>
While such as trust their native strength
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Shall melt away, and droop, and die.
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</poem>
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Swift as an eagle cuts the air,
We'll mount aloft to thine abode
On wings of love our souls shall fly,
Nor tire amidst the heavenly road.}}''The Christian race'', by Isaac Watts, 1709, based on Isaiah 40:28-31


==External links ==
==External links ==

Revision as of 04:23, 1 May 2015

General information

This is an hymn by Isaac Watts, his Hymn 48 of Book 1, published 1709.

Settings by composers

 

Text and translations

English.png English text

Awake, our souls; away, our fears,
Let every trembling thought begone;
Awake, and run the heavenly race,
And put a cheerful courage on.

True, 'tis a strait and thorny road,
And mortal spirits tire and faint;
But they forget the mighty God,
That feeds the strength of every saint.

Thee, mighty God! whose matchless power
Is ever new and ever young,
And firm endures, while endless years
Their everlasting circles run.

From Thee, the overflowing spring,
Our souls shall drink a fresh supply,
While such as trust their native strength
Shall melt away, and droop, and die.

Swift as an eagle cuts the air,
We'll mount aloft to thine abode
On wings of love our souls shall fly,
Nor tire amidst the heavenly road.

The Christian race, by Isaac Watts, 1709, based on Isaiah 40:28-31

External links

add links here

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