Isaac Watts · 557 of 724

Hymn 49

Death cannot make our souls afraid, If God be with us there; We may walk through its darkest shade, And never yield to fear.

I could renounce my all below, If my Creator bid; And run, if I were called to go, And die as Moses did.

Might I but climb to Pisgah's top, And view the promised land, My flesh itself should long to drop, And pray for the command.

Clasped in my heav'nly Father's arms, I would forget my breath, And lose my life among the charms Of so divine a death.