Scripture Verse

My times are in Thy hand. Psalm 31:15


Sigismund R. von Neukomm (1778–1858)

Words: Anne Steele, Po­ems on Sub­jects Chief­ly De­vo­tion­al 1760. Time fly­ing, and death ap­proach­ing.

Music: Ames (von Neu­komm) Sig­is­mund R. von Neu­komm, 1837 (🔊 pdf nwc).

If you know where to get a good pic­ture of Steele (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),


Awake, my soul, nor slum­ber­ing lie,
Amid the gloomy haunts of death;
Perhaps the aw­ful hour is nigh,
Commissioned for my part­ing breath.

That aw­ful hour will soon ap­pear,
Swift on the wings of time it flies,
When all that pains or pleas­es here,
Will van­ish from my clos­ing eyes.

Death calls my friends, my neigh­bors hence,
And none re­sist the fa­tal dart;
Continual warn­ings strike my sense,
And shall they fail to reach my heart?

Shall gay amuse­ments rise be­tween,
When scenes of hor­ror spread around?
Death’s point­ed ar­rows fly un­seen,
But ah, how sure, how deep they wound!

Think, O my soul, how much de­pends,
On the short pe­ri­od of a day;
Shall time, which Heav’n in mer­cy lends,
Be ne­gli­gent­ly thrown away?

Thy rem­nant min­utes strive to use,
Awake! rouse ev­ery ac­tive pow­er!
And not in dreams or tri­fles lose,
This lit­tle now! this pre­cious hour!

Lord of my life, in­spire my heart,
With heav’n­ly ar­dor, grace di­vine;
Nor let Thy pre­sence e’er de­part,
For strength, and life, and death are Thine.

O teach me the ce­les­ti­al skill,
Each aw­ful warn­ing to im­prove!
And while my days are short­en­ing still,
Prepare me for the joys above.

Ensure my nob­ler life on high,
Life, from a dy­ing Sav­ior’s blood!
Then, though my min­utes swift­ly fly,
They bear me near­er to my God.