My dying words pray don't despise

My dying words pray don't despise, Look to that God above the skies; Seek Heaven and his righteousness And share a part in Christ's free grace. Now you are young, robust and spry, And little think that you must die: Those ruddy cheeks now drest so gay, Will soon appear but mould'ring clay.

But that immortal soul you have, Can ne'er 'be bury'd in the grave, But in a moment takes it flight, To darkness or the realms of light.

Who can endure the flames of hell, Or with the damned spirits dwell; There's none can save you from that place But Jesus Christ by his free grace.