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Text: | Old Age |
1 Eternal God! enthron'd on high!
Whom Angel-hosts adore;
Who yet to suppliant dust art nigh,
Thy presence I implore.
2 O guide me down the steep of age,
And keep my passions cool;
Teach me to scan the sacred page,
And practice every rule.
3 My flying years time urges on,
What's human must decay;
My friends, my young companions gone,
Can I expect to stay?
4 Can I exemption plead, when death
Projects his awful dart?
Can med'cines then prolong my breath,
Or virtue shield my heart?
5 Ah! no—then smooth the mortal hour,
On thee my hope depends,
Support me with Almighty power,
While dust to dust descends.
6 Then shall my soul, O gracious God!
(While angels join the lay;)
Admitted to the bless'd abode,
Its endless Anthems pay.
7 Thro' Heaven, howe'er remote the bound,
Thy matchless love proclaim,
And join the choir of saints that sound
Their great Redeemer's name.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Eternal God! enthron'd on high! |
Title: | Old Age |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1793 |
Topic: | Times and Seasons |