Oh, lift your heads! The race is set

Oh

lift your heads! The race is set

Demanding that all weight and sin

Be put away

and

tireless yet

We with endurance run to win!

And yet this race is set in grace

The very Christ whom we enjoy.

For mortal strength there is no place;

We must the Spirit’s power employ.

The prize to gain

ahead it lies:

How precious! ’Tis

the very Christ!

Laid hold by Him

we e’er would rise

And run by His supporting might.

Our running’s not for selfish pride

Nor for our boast in crown or throne.

’Tis duty ours

self-choice aside.

We run for Christ and Christ alone!

For this we give our life and all

Our might

our strength

our days withal.

To Him we live—the upward call.

To Him we die—the gain of all!

And when we fall

we quickly rise!

An all-sufficient grace outpoured

And varied still

with stores untried

Exhaustless grace He doth afford.

His partners dear

His brethren true

No time is there for looking back!

One thing remains: to e’er pursue

The One who doth our hearts attract.

No more we hope in things of old;

No more we dream of vanity!

The peerless Christ is now our goal

Our prize for all eternity!