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The years roll round and steal away
The strength that once they gave;
Whate’er we do, where’er we be,
We are hastening to the grave.
Dangers stand thick through all the ground,
To urge us to the tomb;
And fierce diseases wait around,
To hurry mortals home.
Infinite joy, or endless woe,
Attends on every breath:
And yet how unconcerned we go
Upon the brink of death.
Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense,
To walk this dangerous road;
And should our souls be hurried hence,
May they be found with God.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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Bible Refs:
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Heb 9:27;
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1853 | # 556 |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
