1 Remember, Lord, our mortal state,
How frail our life, How short the date!
Where is the man that draws his breath
Safe from decease, secure from death.

2 Lord, while we see whole nations die,
Our flesh and sense repine and cry,
"Must death forever rage and reign?
"Or hast thou made mankind in vain?

3 "Where is thy promise to the just?
"Are not thy servants turn'd to dust?"
But faith forbids these mournful sighs,
And sees the sleeping dust arise.

4 That glorious hour, that dreadful day,
Wipes the reproach of saints away,
And clears the honor of thy word:
Awake, our souls, and bless the Lord.