Hymn 2:61 [My Soul, Come Meditate The Day]

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Title:     Hymn 2:61 [My Soul, Come Meditate The Day]
Author: Isaac Watts [More Titles by Watts]

A thought of death and glory.

My soul, come meditate the day,
And think how near it stands,
When thou must quit this house of clay,
And fly to unknown lands.

[And you, mine eyes, look down and view
The hollow gaping tomb,
This gloomy prison waits for you
Whene'er the summons come.]

O could we die with those that die,
And place us in their stead,
Then would our spirits learn to fly,
And converse with the dead:

Then should we see the saints above
In their own glorious forms,
And wonder why our souls should love
To dwell with mortal worms.

[How we should scorn these clothes of flesh,
These fetters and this load!
And long for evening to undress,
That we may rest with God.]

We should almost forsake our clay
Before the summons come,
And pray, and wish our souls away
To their eternal home.

[The end]
Isaac Watts's poem: Hymn 2:61 [My Soul, Come Meditate The Day]

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