Shrinking from the Cold Hand of Death - Charles Wesley
1SHRINKING from the cold hand of death,
I too shall gather up my feet;
Shall soon resign this fleeting breath,
And die, my father's God to meet.
2Number'd among thy people, I
Expect with joy thy face to see:
Because thou didst for sinners die,
Jesus, in death, remember me!
3O that without a lingering groan
I may the welcome word receive;
My body with my charge lay down,
And cease at once to work and live!
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