Wait, to catch the signal given,
And escort thee quick to heaven.
3 Is thy earthly house distressed,
Willing to retain its guest?
’Tis not thou, but it, must die—
Fly, celestial tenant, fly!
Burst thy shackles, drop thy clay,
Sweetly breathe thyself away,
Singing, to thy crown remove,
Swift of wing, and fired with love.