Arise, My Gracious God,
And Make The Wicked Flee;
They Are But Thy Chastising Rod,
To Drive Thy Saints To Thee.
Behold, The Sinner Dies,
His Haughty Words Are Vain;
Here In This Life His Pleasure Lies,
And All Beyond Is Pain.
Then Let His Pride Advance,
And Boast Of All His Store;
The Lord Is My Inheritance,
My Soul Can Wish No More.
I Shall Behold The Face
Of My Forgiving God;
And Stand Complete In Righteousness,
Washed In My Saviors Blood.
There Is A New Heaven Begun,
When I Awake From Death,
Dressed In The Likeness Of Thy Son,
And Draw Immortal Breath.