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.