With firm re­solve I held my peace
And spake not ei­ther bad or good,
Lest I should ut­ter sin­ful thoughts
While wick­ed men be­fore me stood.

While I was dumb my grief was stirred,
My heart grew hot with thought sup­pressed;
The while I mused the fire in­creased,
Then to the Lord I made re­quest.

Make me, O Lord, to know my end,
Teach me the mea­sure of my days,
That I may know how frail I am
And turn from pride and sin­ful ways.

My time is no­thing in Thy sight,
Behold, my days are but a span;
Yea, truly, at his best es­tate,
A breath, a fleet­ing breath, is man.

Man’s life is passed in vain de­sire
If trou­bled years be spent for gain;
He knows not whose his wealth shall be,
And all his toil is but in vain.

And now, O Lord, what wait I for?
I have no hope ex­cept in Thee;
Let not un­god­ly men re­proach,
From all trans­gress­ions set me free.

Because Thou didst it I was dumb,
I spoke no word of rash com­plaint;
Remove Thy stroke away from me,
Beneath Thy chas­tise­ment I faint.

When Thou for his ini­qui­ty
Rebukest and cor­rect­est man,
His beau­ty is con­sumed away;
How weak his strength, how vain his plan.

Lord, hear my pray­er, re­gard my cry;
I weep; be Thou my Com­fort­er.
I am a stran­ger here be­low,
A pil­grim as my fa­thers were.

O spare me, Lord, avert Thy wrath,
Deal gent­ly with me, I im­plore,
That I may yet re­co­ver strength
Ere I go hence and be no more.