111. Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve
C.M.
Christmas:
George Frederick Handel, 1728
Philip Doddridge, 1755
Awake, my soul, stretch every nerve, And press with vigour on; A heavenly race demands thy zeal, And an immortal crown. | A cloud of witnesses around Hold thee in full survey; Forget the steps already trod, And onward urge thy way. | 'Tis God's all-animating voice That calls thee from on high; 'Tis his own hand presents the prize To thine aspiring eye. | Then wake, my soul, stretch every nerve, And press with vigour on; A heavenly race demands thy zeal, And an immortal crown. | |