Lord, Thou hast been our dwell­ing place
Through all the ag­es of our race;
Before the mount­ains had their birth,
Or Thou hadst formed the earth;
From ev­er­last­ing Thou art God,
To ev­er­last­ing our abode.

At Thy com­mand man fades and dies
And new­born ge­ne­ra­tions rise;
A thou­sand years are passed away,
And all to Thee are but a day;
Yea, like the watch­es of the night,
With Thee the ag­es wing their flight.

Man soon yields up his fleet­ing breath
Before the swell­ing tide of death;
Like tran­si­ent sleep his sea­sons pass,
His life is like the ten­der grass,
Luxuriant ’neath the morn­ing sun
And wi­thered ere the day is done.

Man in Thine anger is con­sumed,
And un­to grief and sor­row doomed;
Before Thy clear and search­ing sight
Our sec­ret sins are brought to light;
Beneath Thy wrath we pine and die,
Our life ex­pir­ing like a sigh.

For three­score years and ten we wait,
Or fours­core years if strength be great;
But grief and toil at­tend life’s day,
And soon our spir­its fly away;
O who with true and re­ver­ent thought
Can fear Thine an­ger as he ought?

O teach Thou us to count our days
And set our hearts on wis­dom’s ways
Turn, Lord, to us in our dis­tress
In pi­ty now Thy ser­vants bless;
Let mer­cy’s dawn dis­pel our night,
And all our day with joy be bright.

O send the day of joy and light,
For long has been our sor­row’s night;
Afflicted through the wea­ry years,
We wait un­til Thy help ap­pears;
In all Thy child­ren Thou abide,
In us let God be glo­ri­fied.

So let there be on us be­stowed
The beau­ty of the Lord our God;
The work ac­comp­lished by our hand
Establish Thou, and make it stand;
Yea, let our hope­ful la­bor be
Established ev­er­more by Thee.