Old-Line Primitive Baptist Hymn and Tune Book

652 (7.6.7.6.D) John Ryland

Ah! I soon shall be dying,

Time swiftly glides away;

But on my Lord relying,

I hail the happy day:

The day when I must enter

Upon a world unknown;

My helpless soul I venture

On Jesus Christ alone.

He once, a spotless victim,

Upon Mount Calvary bled!

Jehovah did afflict Him.

And bruise Him in my stead.

Hence all my hope arises

Unworthy as I am:

My soul most surely prizes

The sin-atoning Lamb.

To him, by grace united,

I joy in him alone;

And now, by faith delighted,

Behold him on His throne.

There He is interceding

For all who on Him rest:

The grace from Him proceeding,

Shall waft me to His breast.

Then with the saints in glory

The grateful song I'll raise,

And chant my blissful story

In high seraphic lays.

Free grace, redeeming merit.

And sanctifying love,

Of Father, Son, and Spirit,

Shall charm the courts above.