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 would long to drop,
And pray for the command.
Clasped in my heavenly Father’s arms,
I would forget my breath,
And lose my life among the charms
Of so divine a death.