1 The God of life, whose constant care
With blessings crowns each op'ning year,
My scanty span doth still prolong,
And waked anew mine annual song.
2 How many precious souls are fled
To the vast regions of the dead,
Since to this day the changing sun
Through his last yearly period run.
3 We yet survive; but who can say,
"Or through this year, or month, or day,
"I shall retain this vital breath,
"Thus far, at least, in league with death?
4 That breath is thine, eternal God;
'Tis thine to fix my soul's abode;
It holds its life from thee alone
On earth, or in the world unknown.
5 To thee our spirits we resign,
Make them and own them still as thine;
So shall they live secure from fear,
Though death should blast the rising year
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | The God of life, whose constant care |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1792 |
Topic: | New Year's Day |