The Sacred Harp 2012 Cooper Book Edition
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Song · Page 131b

Invocation

Lyrics

Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace,
Rise from transitory things
To heav’n, thy native place;
Sun, and moon, and stars decay,
Time shall soon this earth remove;
Rise, my soul, and haste away
To seats prepared above.

Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn,
Press onward to the prize;
Soon our Savior will return,
Triumphant through the skies.
Yet a season, and you know,
Happy entrance will be giv’n;
All our sorrows left below,
And earth exchanged for heav’n.