Preparation for Death, 46

I know it, Lord: with humble fear
Thy Spirit's warning voice I hear:
My time is past, my race is run,
I soon must lay this body down.

My flesh again to dust shall turn,
My soul on wings of angels borne,
If wash'd in Jesu's blood, shall fly,
And find its Father in the sky.

Yet teach me still by special grace
To count aright my few sad days,
By surest presage to perceive
When I the weeping vale shall leave;

What day I shall from earth remove,
Tell me Thyself in peace and love,
Tell me in purity and power,
And, lucid to my latest hour,

Light in Thy light O may I see,
The brightness of eternity,
The rising Sun of righteousness,
The glory beaming from Thy face.

Indulged with this, I ask no more,
But the great God in Christ adore,
Thy image by reflection shine,
And die into the arms Divine.