All yes­ter­day is past,
Tomorrow’s not our own;
Today may be our fi­nal chance
To bow be­fore the throne.

Tomorrow, Lord is Thine,
Lodged in Thy so­ver­eign hand;
And if its sun arise and shine,
It shines by Thy com­mand.

The pre­sent mo­ment flies
And bears our life away;
Oh, make the care­less tru­ly wise,
That they may live to­day.

Hear ye His voice to­day,
And hard­en not your heart;
Tomorrow He in jus­tice may
Pronounce the doom, De­part.

Upon a fleet­ing hour
Eternity is hung;
Lord, wak­en by Thy migh­ty pow­er
The ag­èd and the young.