Fly home, sweet Soul.  Take flight and fly with Trust.
Remove yourself from here and hurry hence.
Bid not a fond farewell to Pride and Lust:
Simply abandon them to Time's past tense.
Reject the world, the dingy world and dense,
And seek the face of Him our Lord to see.
Close your account with the world: the recompense
Is greater than all worldly wealth could be.
Bloom into heaven; flower like a tree;
And glory in the glory of your flesh
Revivified and glorified and free
Forevermore, and ever clean and fresh.
The Lord who puts the nails to Death and Time
Would have you home with Him in heaven's clime.