My soul, Lord, inflame with zeal from above,

My soul, Lord, inflame with zeal from above,
Thy praise to proclaim and sing of thy love;
To lift up my voice in thanksgiving sincere,
This truth to rejoice in, The Lord will appear.

How joyful this sound, while daily I find
Afflictions abound in body and mind!
It oft has afforded relief from my fear,
To find it recorded, The Lord will appear.

I have, as I seem, when left in the dark,
Of light not a beam, of love not a spark;
And though thus in pain for an evidence clear,
I can't wait in vain, for The Lord will appear.

A warfare I find without and within,
With legions combined, world, Satan, and sin.
Though sore they annoy me, I'll be of good cheer,
They cannot destroy me, The Lord will appear.

My fears sometimes say I never shall find,
In death's awful day true peace in my mind;
But though thus surrounded, yet, when I come there,
I can't be confounded, The Lord will appear.

My dust he will raise, and glory he'll give;
And I to his praise in heaven shall live;
There he will deliver my soul from all fear,
And to me, for ever, The Lord will appear.