[ Death cannot make our souls afraid.]

Watts Hymn II.49

1 CHA beem’s ayns aggle geddyn baase
Marym my vees my Yee;
Hem trooid y choan fegooish angaish, Ny aggle trome erbee.

2 Hreigin yn seihll er son dy bra
Ec saarey Chreest trooid grayse;
As roie, my yinnagh eh rhym gra,
Myr Moses eisht yoin baase.

3 Dy voddin fakin ayns my chree
Yn ghloyr ta kiarit dou;
Jeh’n seihll, as dagh nhee t’ayn veign skee,
Veign booiagh cosney voue.

4 Goit seose ayns roihaghyn my Yee,
My annym veagh ec aash:
As ragh my vioys voym ayns shee,
O s’maynrey veagh my vaase!

Death cannot make our souls afraid,
If God be with us there;
We may walk through its darkest shade,
And never yield to fear.

I could renounce my all below,
If my Creator bid;
And run, if I were called to go,
And die as Moses did.

Might I but climb to Pisgah's top,
And view the promised land,
My flesh itself should long to drop,
And pray for the command.

Clasped in my heav'nly Father's arms,
I would forget my breath,
And lose my life among the charms
Of so divine a death.