Lord, through all the ge­ne­ra­tions
Of the child­ren of our race,
In our fears and tri­bu­la­tions,
Thou hast been our dwell­ing place.
Ere the vast and wide cre­ation
By Thy word was caused to be,
Or the mount­ains held their sta­tion,
Thou art God eter­nal­ly.

Each suc­ceed­ing ge­ne­ra­tion
At Thy migh­ty word ap­pears;
Thou dost count in time’s du­ra­tion
One day as a thou­sand years.
Death, with swift and sud­den warn­ing,
Calls us from life’s dream away,
Like the grass, green in the morn­ing,
Withered ere the close of day.

In Thy wrath our spir­its lang­uish,
Sinful ’neath Thy search­ing eye;
All our days are passed in ang­uish,
In Thy wrath we pine and die.
Threescore years and ten we tar­ry,
Fourscore years the strong may stay,
Long the load of grief to car­ry,
Till at last we fly away.

Who can weigh Thy just dis­plea­sure,
Who can fear Thee as he ought?
Teach us now our days to mea­sure
And to wis­dom turn our thought.
Lord, re­turn, re­gard our sad­ness,
With Thy ser­vants now abide;
Fill our days with joy and glad­ness,
With Thy mercy sa­tis­fied.

Long the clouds of ev­il low­er;
Bless us now with glad­some days;
Let Thy ser­vants see Thy pow­er,
Let their child­ren learn Thy praise.
On us let the grace and beau­ty
Of the Lord our God re­main,
Strengthen us for no­ble du­ty
That our work be not in vain.