My days are like a shadow that declineth; and I am withered like grass.@Psalm 102:11
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John Newton (1725-1807)

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

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

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Samuel Webbe, Sr. (1740-1816)

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.