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Few, few and evil are thy days,
Man, of a woman born;
Peril and trouble haunt thy ways;
Forth, like a flower at morn,
The tender infant springs to light,
Youth blossoms to the breeze,
Age, withering age, is cropt ere night;
Man like a shadow flees.
And dost thou look on such an one?
Will God to judgement call
A worm, for what a worm hath done
Against the Lord of all?
As fail the waters from the deep,
As summer-brooks run dry,
Man lieth down in dreamless sleep,
His life is vanity.
Man lieth down, no more to wake,
Till yonder arching sphere
Shall, with a roll of thunder, break,
And nature disappear.
O hide me, till thy wrath be past,
Thou who canst slay or save!
Hide me, where hope may anchor fast,
In my Redeemer’s grave.
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marker 99
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MUSIC
Name:
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JORDAN
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 D (D.C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1786
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echo ' | ';
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