Awake, my soul, to praise,
Thou hast a rapturous theme!
A subject, glorious and divine;
'Tis Christ-sing thou of him.
Come, and before his face,
Low bow, with foot unshod;
And with a thankful, happy heart,
Adore thy Savior God.
Down to this earth he came,
And loved, and wept, and died;
" Glory to God, goodwill to man!"
His advent angels cried.
Divine, yet clothed in flesh,
His own-made earth he trod.
He came to do the Father's will-
To be the Savior-God.
That will accomplish'd, now
He sits in heaven above,
The Church's representative,-
Dear object of his love.
He bears the glory there,
As here he bore the rod;
He died-yet lives for evermore,
Victorious Savior-God!
And soon He'll come again,
To take His church to heaven;
That church, redeemed by precious blood,-
By grace alone forgiven.
How loud her song will be!
How sweetly will she laud,
Through one eternal, blissful day,-
Jesus, her Savior-God.
A. M.