The Frailty and Shortness of Life

Verse 1

Lord, what a feeble piece Is this our mortal frame! Our life, how poor a trifle 'tis, That scarce deserves the name!

Verse 2

Alas! 'twas brittle clay That built our body first! And every month and every day 'Tis mouldering back to dust.

Verse 3

Our moments fly apace, Our feeble powers decay; Swift as a flood our hasty days Are sweeping us away.

Verse 4

Yet if our days must fly, We'll keep their end in sight, We'll spend them all in wisdom's ways, And let them speed their flight.

Verse 5

They'll waft us sooner o'er This life's tempestuous sea: Soon shall we reach the peaceful shore, Of blest eternity.