1 Remark, my soul, the narrow bounds
Of the revolving year!
How swift the weeks complete their rounds,
How short the months appear!

2 So fast eternity comes on,
And that important day,
When all that mortal life has done
God’s judgment shall survey.

3 Yet like an idle tale we pass
The swift advancing year;
And study artful ways t’increase
The speed of its career.

4 Waken, O God, my trifling heart
Its great concern to see;
That I may act the Christian part,
And give the year to Thee.

5 So shall their course more grateful roll,
If future years arise;
Or this shall bear my smiling soul
To joy that never dies.