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My youthful mates, both small and great,
Stand here and you shall see;
An awful sight which is a type,
Of what you soon must be.
I did appear once fresh and fair.
Among the youthful crowd;
But now behold me dead and cold,
Wrapped in a sable shroud.
My cheeks once red like roses spread,
My sparkling eyes so gay;
But now you see how ‘tis with me,—
A lifeless lump of clay.
When you are dressed in all your best,
In fashion so complete;
You soon must be as you see me,
Wrapped in a winding sheet.
Ah, youth, beware, and do prepare,
To meet the monster death;
For he may come while you are young,
And steal away your breath.
When you unto amusements go,
Remember what I say;
In a short time though in your prime,
You may be called away.
When you unto my grave do go,
The gloomy place to see;
I say to you who stand in view,
Prepare to follow me.
Now I am gone I can’t return,
No more of me you’ll see;
But it is true that all of you,
Must shortly follow me.
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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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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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| 2005 | # 383 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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HARVILLE
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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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Dates:
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 810 | Ab |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
