1 Thro' every age, eternal God, Thou art our rest, our safe abode; High was thy throne ere heaven was made, Or earth thy humble footstool laid.
2 Long hadst thou reign'd ere time began, Or dust was fashion'd to a man; And long thy kingdom shall endure When earth and time shall be no more.
3 But man, weak man, is born to die, Made up of guilt and vanity; Thy dreadful sentence, Lord, was just, "Return, ye sinners, to your dust."
4 [A thousand of our years amount Scarce to a day in thine account; Like yesterday's departed light, Or the last watch of ending night.]