Hymnal: The Book of Worship #413 (1867) Lyrics: 1 My days, my weeks, my months, my years,
Fly rapid as the whirling spheres
Around the steady pole;
Time, like the tide, its motion keeps,
And I shall launch through endless deeps,
Where endless ages roll.
2 The grave is near the cradle seen,
How swift the moments pass between!
And whisper as they fly--
Unthinking man, remember this,
Thou, 'midst thy sublunary bliss,
Must groan, and gasp, and die!
3 But shall my soul be then extinct,
And cease to be, or cease to think?
Great God! it cannot be;
Thou, soul immortal! canst not die;
What wilt thou do, or whither fly,
When death shall set thee free?
4 My soul, attend the solemn call;
Thine earthly tents must quickly fall
And thou must take thy flight
Beyond the vast extensive blue,
To love and sing as angels do,
Or sink in endless night. Topics: Life Its Brevity Languages: English
My days, my weeks, my months, my years