Awake, our souls, away our fears,
Let ev’ry trembling thought be gone,
Awake, and run the heav’nly road,
And put a cheerful courage on.

Swift as the eagle cuts the air,
We’ll mount aloft to thine abode,
On wings of love our souls shall fly,
Nor tire amidst the heav’nly road.

Recordings 1, 2, 3