1 Time! what an empty vapour 'tis!
And days how swift they are!
Swift as an Indian arrow flies,
Or like a shooting star.
2 [The present moments just appear,
Then slide away in haste,
That we can never say, |They're here,|
But only say, |They're past.|]
3 [Our life is ever on the wing,
And death is ever nigh;
The moment when our lives begin
We all begin to die.]
4 Yet, mighty God, our fleeting days
Thy lasting favours share,
Yet with the bounties of thy grace
Thou load'st the rolling year.
5 'Tis sovereign mercy finds us food,
And we are cloth d with love;
While grace stands pointing out the road
That leads our souls above.
6 His goodness runs an endless round;
All glory to the Lord:
His mercy never knows a bound,
And be his Name ador'd!
7 Thus we begin the lasting song,
And when we close our eyes,
Let the next age thy praise prolong
Till time and nature dies.