Scripture Verse

My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle. Job 7:6


William H. Havergal (1793–1870)

Words: Ben­ja­min Bed­dome (1717–1795). Pub­lished post­hu­mous­ly in Hymns Adapt­ed to Pub­lic Wor­ship (Lon­don: Bu­rton & Briggs, 1818), num­ber 708. New Year’s Day.

Music: Ev­an Will­iam H. Ha­ver­gal, 1847. Ar­ranged by Lo­well Ma­son in New Car­mi­na Sac­ra (Bos­ton, Mas­sa­chu­setts: Wil­kins, Car­ter, 1850) (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tunes:

If you know where to get a good pic­ture of Bed­dome (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),

Lowell Mason (1792–1872)


Another year is quick­ly gone,
With its re­volv­ing days,
And yet how lit­tle have I done,
For my cre­at­or’s praise!

I have a war­fare to main­tain,
Against the world and sin;
But oh, what lit­tle ground I gain,
How sloth­ful have I been.

My sands, al­as, how fast they run,
How swift my mo­ments fly;
And yet my work is scarce be­gun,
Now death ap­proach­es nigh.

My heart is hard and stub­born still,
My wild af­fect­ions rove;
Grace has but half sub­dued my will,
But half ob­tained my love.

God’s ho­ly laws I still trans­gress,
His right­eous will oppose;
My fol­lies ev­ery day in­crease,
My debt still larg­er grows.

Impartial Judge, how shall I bear
Thy scru­tin­iz­ing view?
Oh may I bet­ter live this year,
Or ne­ver live it through!