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XXXIXb. The Vanity of Man as mortal

1 Teach me the measure of my days,
Thou maker of my frame;
I would survey life's narrow space,
And learn how frail I am.

2 A span is all that we can boast,
An inch or two of time;
Man is but vanity and dust
In all his flow'r and prime.

3 See the vain race of mortals move
Like shadows o'er the plain;
They rage and strive, desire and love,
But all the noise is vain.

4 Some walk in honor's gaudy show;
Some dig for golden ore,
They toil for heirs, they know not who,
And strait are seen no more.

5 What should I wish or wait for then
From creatures earth and dust,
They make our expectations vain,
And disappoint our trust.

6 Now I forbid my carnal hope,
My fond desires recal;
I give my mortal int'rest up,
And make my God my all.

Text Information
First Line: Teach me the measure of my days
Title: The Vanity of Man as mortal
Meter: Common Metre
Language: English
Publication Date: 1780
Scripture:
Notes: Public Domain.
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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