Stand up, my soul, shake off your fears,
And gird the gospel-armor on;
March to the gates of endless joy,
Where your great Captain-Savior’s gone.

Hell and your sins resist your course,
But hell and sin are vanquished foes;
Your Jesus nailed them to the cross,
And sang the triumph when He rose.

Then let my soul march boldly on,
Press forward to the heav’nly gate;
There peace and joy eternal reign,
And glitt’ring robes for conqu’rors wait.

There shall I wear a starry crown,
And triumph in almighty grace;
While all the armies of the skies
Join in my glorious Savior’s praise.

-  Isaac Watts, (1674-1748)