Why should we start and fear to die?

What timorous worms we mortals are!

Death is the gate of endless joy,

And yet we dread to enter there.

2 The pains, the groans, and dying strife,

Fright our approaching souls away;

Still we shrink back again to life,

Fond of our prison and our clay.

3 O if my Lord would come and meet,

My soul would stretch her wings in haste,

Fly fearless through death’s iron gate,

Nor feel the terrors as she passed!

4 Jesus can make a dying bed

Feel soft as downy pillows are,

While on his breast I lean my head,

And breathe my life out sweetly there.