Death cannot make our souls afraid,

If God be with us there;

We may walk through its darkest shade,

And never yield to fear.

I could renounce my all below,

If my Creator bid;

And run, if I were called to go,

And die as Moses did.

Might I but climb to Pisgah's top,

And view the promised land,

My flesh itself should long to drop,

And pray for the command.

Clasped in my heav'nly Father's arms,

I would forget my breath,

And lose my life among the charms

Of so divine a death.