The Better Portion

Verse 1

Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings, thy better portion trace; Rise from transitory things toward heaven, 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.

Verse 2

Rivers to the ocean run, nor stay in all their course; Fire ascending seeks the sun; both speed them to their source; So a soul that’s born of God, longs to view His glorious face, Forward tends to His abode to rest in His embrace.

Verse 3

Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn; press onward to the prize; Soon our Savior will return, triumphant in the skies; Yet a season, and you know happy entrance will be given, All our sorrows left below, and earth exchanged for heaven.