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| Text: | On Mortality |
1 Kind Souls reflect, awhile with me,
Upon our wretched State,
How frail our Life, how short our Time,
Our Miseries, how great.
2 How Short the Pleasures Earth affords,
How transient, and how few,
Compar'd with Heav'ns Eternal Joys,
And Pleasures ever new.
3 Come let us leave the Things of Earth,
(Whose Pleasures Poisons are,)
And haste away to Canaans Land,
And try our Intrest there.
4 Make the extended Skies your Tomb,
Let Heav'n record your Worth,
For know: Vain Mortals all must die:
As Natures sickliest Birth.
5 Would bounteous Heav'n indulge my Pray'r,
A nobler Choice I frame,
Then here to be esteemed great,
Or gain an Earthly Name.
6 But in thy Book of Life Divine,
My God! inscribe my Name:
There let it fill some humble Place,
Beneath the slaughter'd Lamb,
7 My God! this Witness let me have,
Till I resign my Breath,
And chearfully my Soul shall wait
"Till it is free'd from Death."
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | Kind souls, reflect awhile with me |
| Title: | On Mortality |
| Language: | English |
| Publication Date: | 1791 |
| Topic: | Frailty of Our Life |
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