1 To-morrow, Lord, is thine,
Lodg'd in thy sovereign hand;
And if its sun arise and shine,
It shines by thy command.
2 The perfect moment flies,
And bears our life away;
O make thy servants truly wise,
That they may live to day.
3 One thing demands our care;
O be it still pursu'd!
Lest, slighted once, the season fair
Should never be renew'd.
4 To thee O may we fly,
Swift as the morning light!
Lest life's young golden beams should die
In sudden, endless night.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | To-morrow, Lord, is thine |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1789 |
Topic: | Life, Death, and a future State: So teach us to number our Days, that we may apply our Hearts unto Wisdom |