Thanks be to God in Christ, who gives

Thanks be to God in Christ, who gives
A dying worm the' immortal prize,
As a ripe shock of corn receives
And stores our brother in the skies!

Found in the paths of righteousness,
Our Lord hath crown'd his hoary hairs.
And parting hence in perfect peace.
He now the wreath triumphant wears.

The good and faithful servant, bless'd
With hope and patience to the end,
Doth now from all his labours rest.
And sees his everlasting Friend.

His faith was swallow'd up in sight,
Soon as he laid the body down;
His works pursue the saint in light,
To' adjust the measure of his crown,

His crown of life shall soon be ours,
Built on the sole Foundation sure.
Who serve our God with all our powers,
And faithful unto death endure:

Who now with humble zeal go on,
Our faith's integrity to prove,
The race prescribed with patience run,
And walk in all the works of love.

Then let us steadily pursue
Our comrades in distress and pain,
And fight, like them, our passage through.
Like them the purchased prize obtain:

Press on to perfect holiness,
Instant in never-ceasing prayer,
By force the heavenly kingdom seize.
And find salvation finish'd there!