12 Fear not the face of mortals

Who are but dust and soon decay

Whose breath are in the nostrels

And soon theyl molder back to clay

13 I have one blessed comfort

Which bares me up when trubbles come

My war will soon be ended 

And then my Lord will take me home

14 I shal arise and meet him

And then my warfair will be ore

And walk the streets of Zion 

And praise his name forever more