Shortness of Life and Goodness of God. James 4. 14; Ps. 65. 11

I. Watts   C.M.

Time! what an empty vapour ’tis!
And days how swift they are!
Swift as an Indian arrow flies,
Or like a shooting star.

[The present moments just appear,
Then slide away in haste,
That we can never say, “They’re here,”
But only say “They’re past.”]

[Our life is ever on the wing,
And death is ever nigh;
The moment when our lives begin,
We all begin to die.]

Yet, mighty God! our fleeting days
Thy lasting favours share;
Yet with the bounties of thy grace,
Thou load’st the rolling year.

’Tis sovereign mercy finds us food,
And we are clothed with love;
While grace stands pointing out the road
That leads our souls above.

His goodness runs an endless round;
All glory to the Lord!
His mercy never knows a bound;
And be his name adored.

Thus we begin the lasting song,
And, when we close our eyes,
Let the next age thy praise prolong
Till time and nature dies.


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