2 Only this frail and fleeting breath
Preserves me from the jaws of death;
Soon as it fails at once I'm gone,
And plunged into a world unknown.
3 Then leaving all I loved below,
To God's tribunal I must go,—
Must hear the Judge pronounce my fate,
And fix my everlasting state.
4 But could I bear to hear him say,
"Depart, accursed, far away;
With Satan in the lowest hell,
Thou art for ever doom'd to dwell" ?
5 Lord Jesus! help me now to flee,
And seek my hope alone in thee;
Apply thy blood, thy Spirit give,
Subdue my sin and let me live.
6 Then when the solemn bell I hear,
If saved from guilt I need not fear;
Nor would the thought distressing be—
Perhaps it next may toll for me.
7 Rather my spirit would rejoice,
And long and wish to hear thy voice;
Glad when it bids me earth resign,
Secure of heaven if thou art mine.
1 MY soul, this curious house of clay,
Thy present frail abode,
Must quickly fall to worms a prey,
And thou return to God.
2 Canst thou by faith survey with joy
The change before it come ?
And say—"Let death this house destroy,
I have a heav'nly home ?"
3 The Saviour, whom I then shall see
With new admiring eyes,