Behold the path which mortals tread

Verse 1

Behold the path which mortals tread Down to the regions of the dead! Nor will the fleeting moments stay, Nor can we measure back our way.

Verse 2

Our kindred and our friends are gone; Know, O my soul, this doom thy own. Feeble as theirs thy mortal frame, The same thy way, thy home the same.

Verse 3

From vital air, from cheerful light, To the cold grave's perpetual night,— From scenes of duty, means of grace, Must I to God's tribunal pass!

Verse 4

Awake, my soul! thy way prepare, And lose in this each meaner care; With steady feet that path be trod, Which, thro' the grave, conducts to God.

Verse 5

Father! to thee my all I trust; And, if my flesh return to dust, 'Tis thy decree, I bless thy hand, And die resign'd to thy command.