The Vanity of Man as Mortal

Verse 1

Teach me the measure of my days, Thou Maker of my frame! I would survey life's narrow space, And learn how frail I am.

Verse 2

A span is all that we can boast; A fleeting hour of time; Man is but vanity and dust, In all His flower and prime.

Verse 3

Vain race of mortals, see them move Like shadows o'er the plain: They rage and strive, desire and love, But all the noise is vain.

Verse 4

Some walk in honor's gaudy show; Some dig for golden ore; They toil for whom they do not know, And straight are seen no more.

Verse 5

What should I wish or wait for then, From creatures, earth, and dust? They make our expectations vain, And disappoint our trust.

Verse 6

Now I resign my earthly hope, My fond desires recall; I give my mortal interest up, And make my God my all.