We
start out to run the race,
Head
held high as we set the pace.
Hopes
of winning
Without
sinning
A
glow of peace upon the face.
Mile
upon mile we run,
Pressing
forward to be done.
One
foot out; and then another,
Side
beside a dear brother;
A
glorious crown to be won.
Water
passed along the way
From
friends that shout and say
Hold
on; run straight;
Maintain
your gait;
Victory
will be yours someday.
Soon
the wind stings the face.
Blinding
trail without trace.
Footsteps
falter;
Our
gait we alter;
We
seek sufficiency of Grace.
Running
firm, the strength we find
Makes
the miles; weakens the grind.
Looking
up
We
see the cup,
Of
honor within our mind.
Soon
the breezes mildly blow,
And
freshens sweet as on we go.
We
see His face;
We've
won the race:
Then
His rest God will bestow!
