1 Thee we adore, eternal Name!
And humbly own to Thee
How feeble is our mortal frame,
What dying worms are we.
2 Our wasting lives are shortening still,
As months and days increase;
And every beating pulse we tell
Leaves but the number less.
3 Dangers stand thick through all the ground,
To push us to the tomb;
And fierce diseases wait around
To hurry mortals home.
4 Great God! on what a slender thread
Hang everlasting things!
Th' eternal states of all the dead
Upon life's feeble strings.
5 Yet while a world of joy or woe
Depends on every breath,
Thoughtless and unconcerned we go
Upon the brink of death.
6 Waken, O Lord! our drowsy sense,
To walk this dangerous road;
And if our souls are hurried hence,
May they be found with God.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | Thee we adore, eternal Name! |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1867 |
Topic: | Life: Its Duties and Object |