1 The swift-declining day,
How fast its moments fly!
While evening's broad and gloomy shade
Gains on the western sky.
2 Ye mortals! mark its pace,
And use the hours of light;
For know, its Maker can command
At once eternal night.
3 Give glory to the Lord,
Who rules the whirling sphere;
Submissive at his footstool bow,
And seek salvation there.
4 Then shall new luster break
Through death's impending gloom,
And lead you to unchanging light,
In your celestial home.
Source: The Voice of Praise: a collection of hymns for the use of the Methodist Church #828