277

7s.D.

1
While with ceaseless course the sun
Hasted through the former year,
Many souls their race have run,
Never more to meet us here:
Fixed in an eternal state,
They have done with all below;
We a little longer wait,
But how little – none can know.

2
As the winged arrow flies,
Speedily the mark to find;
As the lightning, from the skies,
Darts and leaves no trace behind:
Swiftly thus our fleeting days
Bear us down life’s rapid stream;
Upwards, Lord, our spirits raise,
All below is but a dream.

3
Thanks for mercies past receive,
Pardon of our sins renew;
Teach us, henceforth, how to live,
With eternity in view:
Bless Thy Word to young and old,
Fill us with a Saviour’s love;
And when life’s short tale is told,
May we dwell with Thee above.