1 Thou turnest man, O Lord to dust,
Of which he first was made;
And when thou speak'st the word "Return,"
'Tis instantly obey'd.
2 For in thy sight a thousand years
Are like a day that's past;
Or like a watch, in dead of night,
Whose hours unminded waste.
3 The sweep'st us off as with a flood,
We vanish hence like dreams;
At first we grow like grass that feels
The sun's reviving beams;
4 But howsoever fresh and fair
Its morning beauty shows,
'Tis all cut down and withered quite,
Before the evening close.Source: A Selection of Psalms with occasional hymns (Charleston hymnal) #H.XL