Scripture Verse

My days are like a shadow that declineth; and I am withered like grass. Psalm 102:11

Introduction

portrait
John Newton (1725–1807)

Words: John New­ton, Ol­ney Hymns (Lon­don: W. Ol­iv­er, 1779), Book 2, num­ber 1. The last stan­za has al­so been pub­lished as a se­pa­rate hymn.

Music: Be­ne­ven­to, ar­ranged from Sam­uel Webbe, Sr., 1792 (🔊 pdf nwc).

portrait
Samuel Webbe (1740–1816)

Lyrics

While with cease­less course the sun
Hasted through the for­mer year,
Many souls their race have run,
Never more to meet us here;
Fixed in an eter­nal fate,
They have done with all below;
We a lit­tle long­er wait,
But how lit­tle—none can know.

As the wing­èd ar­row flies
Speedily the mark to find;
As the light­ning from the skies
Darts, and leaves no trace be­hind;
Swiftly thus our fleet­ing days
Bear us down life’s ra­pid stream;
Upwards, Lord, our spir­its raise,
All be­low is but a dream.

Thanks for mer­cies past re­ceive,
Pardon of our sins re­new;
Teach us, hence­forth, how to live
With eter­ni­ty in view:
Bless Thy Word to young and old,
Fill us with a Sav­ior’s love;
And when life’s short tale is told,
May we dwell with Thee ab­ove.