1 Arise, my gracious God, And make the wicked flee; They are but thy chastising rod To drive thy saints to thee.
2 Behold the sinner dies, His haughty words are vain; Here in this life his pleasure lies, And all beyond is pain.
3 Then let his pride advance, And boast of all his store: The Lord is my inheritance, My soul can wish no more.
4 I shall behold the face Of my forgiving God, And stand complete in righteousness, Wash'd in my Saviour's blood.
5 There's a new heaven begun, When I awake from death, Drest in the likeness of thy Son, And draw immortal breath.