Arise, my gracious god

Arise, my gracious God,
And make the wicked flee
They are but Thy chastising rod,
To drive Thy saints to Thee.

Behold, the sinner dies,
His haughty words are vain
Here in this life his pleasure lies,
And all beyond is pain.

Then let his pride advance,
And boast of all his store
The Lord is my inheritance,
My soul can wish no more.

I shall behold the face
Of my forgiving God
And stand complete in righteousness,
Washed in my Savior’s blood.

There is a new heav’n begun,
When I awake from death,
Dressed in the likeness of Thy Son,
And draw immortal breath.