Oh, lift your heads! The race is set

NS981
1
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!
2
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.
3
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.
4
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!
5
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!
6
And when we fall, we quickly rise!
An all-sufficient grace outpoured,
And varied still, with stores untried,
Exhaustless grace He doth afford.
7
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.
8
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!