XXII. Frail life, and succeeding Eternity

I Thee, we adore, eternal name,
And humbly own to thee,
How feeble is our mortal frame,
What dying worms are we!

II Our wasting lives grow shorter still,
As months and days increase;
And ev'ry beating pulse we tell,
Leaves but the number less.

III The year rolls round, and steals away
The breath that first it gave;
Whate'er we do, where'er we be,
We're trav'lling to the grave.

IV Dangers stand thick through all the ground
To push us to the tomb,
And fierce diseases wait around,
To hurry mortals home.

V Good God! on what a slender thread
Hang everlasting things!
Th' eternal states of all the dead
Upon life's feeble strings.

VI Infinite joy, or endless wo,
Attends on ev'ry breath;
And yet how unconcern'd we go
Upon the brink of death!

VII Waken, O Lord! our drowsy sense,
To walk this dang'rous road;
And if our souls be hurry'd hence,
May they be found with God.

Text Information
First Line: Thee, we adore, eternal name
Title: Frail life, and succeeding Eternity
Meter: Short Metre
Language: English
Publication Date: 1787
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