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 flower 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 straight 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 recall!
I give my mortal interest up,
And make my God my all.
Select Psalms and Hymns for the Use of Mr. Adgate's Pupils, 1787