Old Age Approaching, or Man Frail and Mortal

1 Eternal God! enthron'd on high!
Whom angel-hosts adore;
Who yet to suppliant dust art nigh,
thy presence I implore.

2 O guide me down the steep of age,
And keep my passions cool;
Teach me to scan the sacred page,
And practice every rule.

3 My flying years time urges on,
What's human must decay;
My friends, my young companions gone,
Can I expect to stay?

4 Can I exemption plead, when death
Projects his awful dart?
Can med'cines then prolong my breath,
Or virtue shield my heart?

5 Ah! no--then smooth the mortal hour,
On thee my hope depends;
Support me with almighty power,
While dust to dust descends.

6 Then shall my soul, O gracious God!
(While angels join the lay)
Admitted to the bless'd abode,
Its endless anthems pay.

7 Through heav'n, howe'er remote the bound,
Thy matchless love proclaim,
And join the choir of saints that sound
Their great Redeemer's name.

Source: The Hartford Selection of Hymns: from the most approved authors: to which are added a number never before published (2nd ed.) #CCLXVII