Is there a Chariot Heaven bound
In which my troubled soul might lay
Or e’en a cask of fresh cut oak
To carry my remains away.
Preferring now a quiet place
Afar from Adam’s restless pace
I pause to trace a life near o’er
A time to face this solemn hour.
Is there a friend to carry me
To lay me neath a willow tree.
But more than bone and flesh am I
A spirit that would reach the sky
My life has nothing that to plead
Another’s death is all I need.
Is there a friend to carry me
To realms above, a haven, free
To pay the price for all wrong done
A ransom paid
Almighty Son
Is that a Chariot Heaven Bound
In Him,
A precious Saviour found.
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