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1 Thro' every age, eternal God,
Thou art our rest, our safe abode:
High was thy throne ere heaven was made,
Or earth thy humble foot-stool laid.
2 Long had'st thou reign'd ere time began,
Or dust was fashion'd to a man;
And long thy kingdom shall endure
When earth and time shall be no more.
3 But man, weak man, is born to die,
Made up of guilt and vanity:
Thy dreadful sentence, Lord was just,
"Return ye sinners, to your dust."
4 [A thousand of our years amount
Scarce to a day in thine account,
Like yesterday's departed light;
Or the last watch of ending night.
Pause.
5 Death like an overflowing stream,
Sweeps us away; our life's a dream;
An empty tale; a morning flower,
Cut down and wither'd in an hour.]
6 [Our age to seventy years is set;
How short the time! how frail the state!
And if to eighty we arrive,
We rather sigh, and groan than live.
7 But oh how oft thy wrath appears,
And cuts off our expected years!
Thy wrath awakes our humble dread!
We fear the power that strikes us dead.]
8 Teach us, O Lord, how frail is man;
And kindly lengthen out our span,
'Till a wise care of piety
Fit us to die, and dwell with thee.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Thro' every age, eternal God |
Title: | Man Mortal, and GOD Eternal |
Meter: | Long Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1787 |
Scripture: | |
Topic: | Afflictions: without rejection; Death: the effect of sin; Frailty of Man(8 more...) |
Notes: | A mournful Song at a Funeral |