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Choice Collection of Hymns, 1774
 English text
1. Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace,
Rise from transitory things,
Towards heaven, thy native place;
Sun, and moon and stars decay,
Time shall soon this earth remove,
Rise, my soul, and haste away,
To Seats prepared above.
2. Rivers to the ocean run,
Nor stay in all their course;
Fire ascending seeks the sun,
Both speed them to their source;
So a soul that's born of God,
Pants to view his glorious face;
Upwards tends to his abode,
To rest in his embrace.
3. Fly me riches, fly me cares;
Whilst I that coast explore;
Flattering world, with all thy snares,
Solicit me no more.
Pilgrims fix not here their home;
Strangers tarry but a night,
When the last dear morn is come,
They'll rise to joyful light.
4. Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn,
Press onward to the prize;
Soon our Savior will return
Triumphant in the skies:
Yet a season and you know
Happy entrance will be given
All our sorrows cast below,
And earth exchanged for heaven.
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G. Whitefield, Collection of Hymns, 1759
English text
1. Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace;
Rise from transitory things,
Towards heaven, thy native place.
Sun, and moon, and stars decay,
Time shall soon this earth remove;
Rise, my soul, and haste away
To Seats prepared above.
2. Rivers to the ocean run,
Nor stay in al! their course;
Fire ascending seeks the Sun,
Both speed them to their source:
So a soul that's born of God
Pants to view his glorious face,
Upwards tends to his abode,
To rest in his embrace.
3. Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn,
Press onward to the prize;
Soon our Savior will return
Triumphant in the skies:
Yet a season and you know
Happy entrance will be given.
All our sorrows left below,
And earth exchanged for heaven.
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