Hymns and Tunes 1876 212
Awake, my soul
1Awake, my soul! stretch every nerve, And press with vigor on; A heavenly race demands thy zeal, And an immortal crown.
2'Tis God's all-animating voice That calls thee from on high; 'Tis his whose hand presents the prize To thine aspiring eye.
3A cloud of witnesses around Hold thee in full survey; Forget the steps already trod, And onward urge thy way.
4Blest Saviour! introduced by thee, Have I my race begun; And, crowned with victory, at thy feet I'll lay my trophies down.
Public Domain
The verse
- Meter
- 30
- Foot
- iambic (da-DUM) · 44% of beats fit
- Rhyme
- A
Scan every line
/ stressed · ˘ unstressed · ? not in the dictionary
Verse 1
Verse 2
Verse 3
Verse 4
Counted by machine from the CMU Pronouncing Dictionary. It cannot hear emphasis or a poet’s licence, so treat it as a place to start reading, not the last word.