Life short, and Man frail.
1 TEACH me the measure of my days, Thou Maker of my frame;
I would survey life's narrow space, And learn how frail I am.
2 A span is all that we can boast; How short the fleeting time! Man is but vanity and dust,
In all his flower and prime.
3 What can I wish, or wait for, then, From creatures - earth and dust? They make our expectations vain, And disappoint our trust.
4 Now 1 forbid my carnal hope, My fond desire recall;
I give my mortal interest up, And make my God my
1 ERE mountains reared their forms sublime, Or heaven and earth in order stood, Before the birth of ancient time, From everlasting thou art God.
2 A thousand ages, in their flight, With thee are as a fleeting day; Past, present, future, to thy sight At once their various scenes display. 3 But our brief life's a shadowy dream, A passing thought, that soon is o'er, That fades with morning's earliest beam, And fills the musing mind no more.
4 To us, O Lord, the wisdom give,
Each passing moment so to spend, That we at length with thee may live Where life and bliss shall never end.
1 HOW swift, alas! the moments fly! How rush the years along!
Scarce here, yet gone already by— The burden of a song.
2 See childhood, youth, and manhood, pass, And age, with furrowed brow; Time was -time shall be — but, alas! Where, where in time is now?
3 Time is the measure but of change; No present hour is found;
The past, the future, fill the range Of time's unceasing round.
4 Where, then, is now? In realms above, With God's atoning Lamb,
In regions of eternal love,
Where sits enthroned I AM.
5 Then, pilgrim, let thy joys and fears On time no longer lean;
But henceforth all thy hopes and fears From earth's affections wean.
6 To God let grateful accents rise; With truth, with virtue, live; So all the bliss that time denies, Eternity shall give.
Man hastening to the Grave.
1 LORD, what a feeble piece Is this our mortal frame! Our life, how poor a trifle 'tis,
That scarce deserves the name!
2 Alas! 'twas brittle clay
That formed our body first; And every month, and every day, 'Tis mouldering back to dust.
3 Our moments fly apace; Nor will our minutes stay; Just like a flood our hasty days Are sweeping us away.
4 Well, if our days must fly, We'll keep their end in sight; We'll spend them all in wisdom's way, And let them speed their flight.
5 They'll waft us sooner o'er
This life's tempestuous sea:
We soon shall reach the peaceful shore Of blest eternity.
Life rapidly passing away.
1 AS flows the rapid river,
With channel broad and free, Its waters rippling ever, And hasting to the sea, So life is onward flowing, And days of offered peace, And man is swiftly going
Where calls of mercy cease.
2 As moons are ever waning, As hastes the sun away, As stormy winds, complaining, Bring on the wintry day, So fast the night comes o'er us The darkness of the grave; And death is just before us:
God takes the life he gave.
3 Say, hath thy heart its treasure Laid up in worlds above? And is it all thy pleasure
Thy God to praise and love? Beware, lest death's dark river Its billows o'er thee roll, And thou lament forever The ruin of thy soul.
1 TIME is winging us away To our eternal home; Life is but a winter's day – A journey to the tomb: Youth and vigor soon will flee, Blooming beauty lose its charms; All that's mortal soon shall be Enclosed in death's cold arms.
2 Time is winging us away To our eternal home; Life is but a winter's day— A journey to the tomb; But the Christian shall enjoy Health and beauty soon above, Where no worldly griefs annoy, Secure in Jesus' love.
Time the Period to prepare for Eternity.
1 THEE we adore, Eternal Name, And humbly own to thee
How feeble is our mortal frame, What dying worms are we.
2 The year rolls round, and steals away The breath that first it gave; Whate'er we do, where'er we be, We're travelling to the grave.
3 Great God, on what a slender thread Hang everlasting things! The final state of all the dead Upon life's feeble strings!
4 Eternal joy, or endless woe, Attends on every breath; And yet how unconcerned we go Upon the brink of death!
5 Awake, O Lord, our drowsy sense, To walk this dangerous road; And if our souls are hurried hence, May they be found with God.
Reflections on past Generations.
1 OUR fathers! where are they, With all they called their own? Their joys and griefs, their hopes and cares, Their wealth and honor, gone!
2 But joy or grief succeeds
Beyond our mortal thought,
While still the remnant of their dust Lies in the grave forgot.
3 God of our fathers, hear,
Thou everlasting Friend,
While we, as on life's utmost verge,
Our souls to thee commend.
4 Of all the pious dead
May we the footsteps trace, Till with them, in the land of light, We dwell before thy face.
1 TO-MORROW, Lord, is thine, Lodged in thy sovereign hand; And if its sun arise and shine, It shines by thy command.
2 The present moment flies, And bears our life away; O, make thy servants truly wise, That they may live to-day.
3 Since on this fleeting hour Eternity is hung,
Awake, by thine almighty power, The aged and the young.
4 One thing demands our care; O, be that still pursued,
Lest, slighted once, the season fair Should never be renewed.
5 To Jesus may we fly,
Swift as the morning light,
Lest life's young, golden beams should die In sudden, endless night.
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