768 EVAN. C. M. W. H. HAVERGAL. 4 1. How swift, a las, the mo-ments fly! How rush the years a long! 2 See childhood, youth, and manhood pass, 2 Death rides on every passing breeze, And age with furrowed brow; 3 Time is the measure but of change; 4 Then, Christian, let thy joys and fears On time no longer lean; But henceforth all thy hopes and fears 769 1 Our days, alas, our mortal days 2 'Tis but, at best, a narrow bound, That Heaven allows to men; [round And pains and sins run through the Of threescore years and ten. 3 Well, if ye must be sad and few, And lurks in every flower; Its peril every hour. 3 Our eyes have seen the rosy light 4 Turn, mortal, turn; thy danger know: Where'er thy foot can tread, The earth rings hollow from below, 771 R. HEBER 1 O God, our help in ages past, 2 Under the shadow of thy throne 3 A thousand ages, in thy sight, Are like an evening gone; Short as the watch that ends the night, 4 Time, like an ever-rolling stream, Bears all its sons away; They fly, forgotten, as a dream Dies at the opening day. 773 I. WATTS. 1 Thee we adore, eternal Name, 2 Our wasting lives grow shorter still, 3 The year rolls round, and steals away The breath that first it gave; Whate'er we do, where'er we be, We're traveling to the grave. I. WATTS. 774 1 Teach me the measure of my days, Thou Maker of my frame; I would survey life's narrow space, 2 A span is all that we can boast; In all his flower and prime. 3 What can I wish, or wait for, then, From creatures,-earth and dust? They make our expectations vain, And disappoint our trust. 775 I. WATTS 1 Through sorrow's night and danger's 2 There, when the turmoil is no more, The storms of earth shall beat. 4 These ashes, then, this little dust H. K. WHITE. 1 How long shall death the tyrant reign, 3 Let faith arise and climb the hills, And triumph o'er the just, And from afar descry How distant are his chariot wheels, And tell how fast they fly. We hear the voice, "Ye dead, arise!” And, lo, the graves obey! And waking saints, with joyful eyes, Salute th' expected day. I. WATTS. A. WILLIAMS. 778 WINDHAM. L. M. 22 Arranged. 1. Un-veil thy bosom, faithful tomb; Take this new treasure to thy trust, 32 2 And give these sa - cred rel - ics room To slumber in the si lent dust. 1 Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb; 2 Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear, 3 So Jesus slept; God's only Son [bed; Passed thro' the grave and blest its Rest here, blest saint, till from his throne The morning break and pierce the shade. 4 Break from his throne, illustrious morn! Attend, O earth, his sov'reign word! Restore thy trust! a glorious form Shall then arise to meet the Lord. I. WATTS. 779 1 The morning flowers display their sweets, 2 So blooms the human face divine When youth its pride of beauty shows, Fairer than spring the colors shine, And sweeter than the blushing rose. 3 But worn by slowly rolling years Or broke by sickness in a day, The fading glory disappears, The short-lived beauties die away. High was thy throne ere heaven was made, Or earth, thy hum - ble footstool, laid. 1 Through every age, eternal God, 2 Death, like an ever-flowing stream, 3 Teach us, O Lord, how frail is man, I. WATTS. 1 Life is the time to serve the Lord, 2 The living know that they must die; 3 Their hatred and their love is lost, 4 Then what my thoughts design to do, I. WATTS. 784 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 th' 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, With wise designs and virtuous deeds; 785 2 So fades a summer cloud away; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er ; So gently shuts the eye of day; So dies a wave along the shore. 3 But soon shall shine that marble brow, When slumb'ring saints arise and sing, "O grave, where is thy vict'ry now, And where, O death, is now thy sting?" A. L. BARBAULD. |