Few, few and evil are thy days

Verse 1

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.

Verse 2

And dost thou look on such an one? Will God to judgment 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.

Verse 3

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.