532. L. M. J. Taylor. The Shortness of Life.
1 Like shadows gliding o'er the plain,
Or clouds that roll successive on,
Man's busy generations pass,
And while we gaze their forms are gone.
2 |He lived, -- he died;| behold the sum,
The abstract of the historian's page!
Alike, in God's all-seeing eye,
The infant's day, the patriarch's age.
3 O Father! in whose mighty hand
The boundless years and ages lie;
Teach us thy boon of life to prize,
And use the moments as they fly;
4 To crowd the narrow span of life
With wise designs and virtuous deeds;
And bid us wake from death's dark night,
To share the glory that succeeds.