Henry Charles Beeching, ed. (1859–1919). Lyra Sacra: A Book of Religious Verse. 1903.
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| MY 1 soul, go boldly forth, | |
| Forsake this sinful earth, | |
| What hath it been to thee | |
| But pain and sorrow, | |
| And think’st thou it will be | 5 |
| Better to-morrow? | |
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| Why art thou for delay? | |
| Thou cam’st not here to stay: | |
| What tak’st thou for thy part | |
| But heavenly pleasure? | 10 |
| Where then should be thy heart | |
| But where’s thy treasure? | |
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| There I shall know God more, | |
| There is the blessed chore, 2 | |
| No wickedness comes there, | 15 |
| All there is holy: | |
| There is no grief or fear, | |
| No sin or folly. | |
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| Love flames in every breast | |
| The greatest and the least, | 20 |
| Strangers to this sweet life | |
| There are not any. | |
| Love leaves no place for strife, | |
| Makes one of many. | |
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| Each is to other dear; | 25 |
| No malice enters there, | |
| No siding difference, | |
| No hurt, no evil; | |
| Because no ignorance, | |
| No sin, no devil. | 30 |
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| What joy must there needs be | |
| Where all God’s glory see, | |
| Feeling God’s vital love | |
| Which still is burning; | |
| And flaming Godward move, | 35 |
| Full love returning. | |
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| Gladly, my soul, go forth; | |
| Is heaven of no more worth | |
| Than this curst desert is, | |
| This world of trouble? | 40 |
| Prefer eternal bliss | |
| Before this bubble. | |
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| Wish not still for delay; | |
| Why would’st thou longer stay | |
| From Christ, from home so far, | 45 |
| In self-denial: | |
| And live in longer war | |
| A life of trial? | |
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| Cherish not causeless doubt | |
| That God will shut thee out: | 50 |
| What if He thee assured | |
| From heaven by letter? | |
| His Son, His Spirit, and Word | |
| Have done it better. | |
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| Christ who knows all His sheep | 55 |
| Will all in safety keep. | |
| He will not lose His blood | |
| Nor intercession: | |
| Nor we the purchased good | |
| Of His dear Passion. | 60 |
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| I know my God is just, | |
| To Him I wholly trust | |
| All that I have and am, | |
| All that I hope for: | |
| All’s sure and seen to Him | 65 |
| Which I here grope for. | |
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| Lord Jesus, take my spirit, | |
| I trust Thy love and merit: | |
| Take home this wandering sheep, | |
| For Thou hast sought it: | 70 |
| This soul in safety keep, | |
| For Thou hast bought it. Amen. | |
