As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more.
Psalm 103:15–16
Words: William H. Groser, Songs by the Way (London: Sunday School Union, 1875).
Music: Carinthia, in The Primitive Methodist Hymnal, edited by George Booth (London: Primitive Methodist Publishing House, 1889), number 881 (🔊 pdf nwc).
Swift as an eagle’s flight,
When hastening to his prey,
So, Father, in Thy sight,
Our moments pass away;
Yet not too swift their course shall be,
If they but bear us, Lord, to Thee.
As morning mists, that fly
The footsteps of the light;
As evening clouds, that die
Beneath the touch of night:
So fly our years—Lord, let them be
As friends, to lead us home to Thee!
Thy mercies past we sing,
The praise is Thine alone;
What future days shall bring,
To none but Thee is known:
Yet, whatsoe’er our portion be,
Conduct us safe to Heav’n and Thee.
On life’s fast-rushing tide
What dangers hover near?
Yet, if our Savior guide,
We shall no shipwreck fear;
But joyful breast the stormy sea,
And land at last in Heaven with Thee.