The Song of the Soul

O the song of the soul shall not die nor grow old

Nor lang­uish nor pine in the home of our king;

But as ages fly on­ward new chords shall un­fold

New me­lo­dies ris­ing in­spire us to sing.

O the song of the soul!

O the song of the soul!

Forever in glo­ry the song of the soul!

And the fair gold­en harps in the hands of the blest

Shall thrill to a touch that no an­gel can give

As we sing in that land where the wea­ry shall rest

Of one who hath died that the sin­ner might live.

And as ages fly on­ward

the worlds cease to be

And per­ish the stars that in heav­en do throng

Still the joy of the soul shall be death­less and free

And death­less and free the sweet notes of her song.