1 And let our feeble bodies fail,
And let them faint and die;
We soon shall quit the mournful vale,
And soar to worlds on high; MIM 116.2
2 Shall join the glorified saints,
And find our long-sought rest,
That only bliss for which we pant,
In the Redeemer’s breast. MIM 116.3
3 In hope of that immortal crown,
We now the cross sustain;
And gladly wander up and down,
And smile at toil and pain. MIM 116.4
4 We suffer on our threescore years,
Till our Deliv’rer come,
And wipe away his servants’ tears,
And take his exiles home. MIM 116.5