1 Time! what an empty vapour ’tis!
And days how swift they are!
Swift as an Indian arrow flies,
Or like a shooting star.
2 [The present moments just appear,
Then slide away in haste,
That we can never say, “They’re here,”
But only say “They’re past.”]
3 [Our life is ever on the wing,
And death is ever nigh;
The moment when our lives begin,
We all begin to die.]
4 Yet, mighty God! our fleeting days
Thy lasting favours share;
Yet with the bounties of thy grace,
Thou load’st the rolling year.
5 ’Tis sovereign mercy finds us food,
And we are clothed with love;
While grace stands pointing out the road
That leads our souls above.
6 His goodness runs an endless round;
All glory to the Lord!
His mercy never knows a bound;
And be his name adored.
7 Thus we begin the lasting song,
And, when we close our eyes,
Let the next age thy praise prolong
Till time and nature dies.
Source: A Selection of Hymns for Public Worship. In four parts (10th ed.) (Gadsby's Hymns) #498