4001. Lord, What a Feeble Piece

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, the brittle clay
That built our body first!
And every month, and every day,
’Tis moldering 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;
Soon we shall reach the peaceful shore
Of blessed eternity.

Text Information
First Line: Lord, what a feeble piece
Title: Lord, What a Feeble Piece
Author: Isaac Watts (1719)
Meter: SM
Language: English
Source: The Psalms of David, 1719
Copyright: Public Domain
Tune Information
Composer: Harry Ellis Wooldridge (1899)
Meter: SM
Incipit: 12344 36513 21543
Key: F Major
Copyright: Public Domain

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