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Awake, My Zeal; Awake, My Love

Awake, my zeal; awake, my love,

To serve my Savior here below,

In works which perfect saints above

And holy angels cannot do.

Awake, my charity, to feed

The hungry soul, and clothe the poor;

In Heav'n are found no sons of need,

There all these duties are no more.

Subdue thy passions, O my soul!

Maintain the fight, thy work pursue,

Daily thy rising sins control,

And be thy vic'tries ever new.

The land of triumph lies on high,

There are no foes t'encounter there;

Lord, I would conquer till I die,

And finish all the glorious war.

Let every flying hour confess

I gain Thy Gospel fresh renown;

And when my life and labors cease,

May I possess the promised crown!

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