A Collection of Hymns and A Liturgy ‎#473

473. Teach me the measure of my days

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.

2 A span is all that we can boast;
A fleeting hour of time.
Man is but vanity and dust
In all his flow'r and prime.

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

4 Some walk in honour's gaudy show,
Some dig for golden ore;
They toil for heirs they know not who,
And straight are seen no more.

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

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

Text Information

• First Line: Teach me the measure of my days
• Meter: C. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1814
• Topic: Death

Tune Information

(No tune information)