1 Awake, my zeal, awake, my love, To serve my Saviour here below, In works which perfect saints above And holy angels cannot do.
2 Awake my charity, to feed The hungry soul, and clothe the poor: In heaven are found no sons of need, There all these duties are no more.
3 Subdue thy passions, O my soul! Maintain the fight, thy work pursue, Daily thy rising sins control, And be thy victories ever new.
4 The land of triumph lies on high, There are no foes t' encounter there: Lord, I would conquer till I die, And finish all the glorious war.
5 Let every flying hour confess I gain thy gospel fresh renown; And when my life and labour cease, May I possess the promis'd crown.