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My days, my [and] weeks, my [and] months, my [and] years
Author: T. Green Hymnal: Songs of Pilgrimage #998 (1888)
My days, my [and] weeks, my [and] months, my [and] years
My days, and weeks, and months, and years
Author: Green Hymnal: Hymn Book for Christian Worship. 8th ed. #a623 (1864) Languages: English
My days, and weeks, and months, and years
My days, and weeks, and months, and years
Author: Greene Hymnal: Selection of Hymns for the Sunday School Union of the Methodist Episcopal Church #164 (1832)
My days, and weeks, and months, and years
My days, and weeks, and months, and years
Author: Green Hymnal: Hymns for the Sanctuary #580 (1849) Languages: English
My days, and weeks, and months, and years
My days, and weeks, and months, and years
Author: Green Hymnal: Hymn Book for Christian Worship #623 (1854) Languages: English
My days, and weeks, and months, and years
My days, and weeks, and months, and years
Author: Green Hymnal: A Collection of Psalms and Hymns for the Sanctuary #625 (1845) Languages: English
My days, and weeks, and months, and years
On the swiftness of Time
Hymnal: Divine Hymns or Spiritual Songs, for the use of religious assemblies and private Christians #XXIV (1802) First Line: My days, my weeks, my months, my years Lyrics: 1 My days, my weeks, my months, my years,
Fly rapid as the whirling spheres
Around the steady pole;
Time, like the tide, its motion keeps,
Still I shall launch those boundless deeps,
Where endless ages roll.
2 The grave is near the cradle seen;
How swift the moments pass between,
And whisper as they fly,
Unthinking man! remember this,
Thou, midst thy sublunary bliss,
Must groan, and gasp, and die!
3 My soul, attend the solemn call;
Thine earthly tents must quickly fall
And thou must take thy flight
Beyond the vast extensive blue,
To sing above as angels do,
Or sink in endless night.
4 Eternal bliss, eternal woe,
Hangs on this inch of time below00
On this precarious breath;
The God of nature only knows
Whether another year may close,
Ere I expire in death.
5 Long ere the sun shall run its round,
I may be buried under ground,
And there in silence rot!
Alas! one hour may close the scene,
And ere twelve months shall roll between
My name be quite forgot.
6 But shall my soul be then extinct,
Or cease to live, or cease to think!
It cannot, cannot be;
Thou, my immortal, cannot die,
What wilt thou do, or whither fly,
When death shall set thee free?
7 Will mercy then its arm extend?
Will Jesus be thy guardian friend,
And heav'n thy dwelling-place?
Or shall insulting fiends appear
To drag thee down to dark despair,
Beyond the reach of grace?
8 A heaven or hell and these alone,
Beyond this mortal state are known,
There is no middle state:
To-day attend the call divine,
To-morrow may be none of thine,
Or it may be too late.
9 O! do not pass this life in dreams,
Vast is the change, whate'er it seems,
To poor unthinking men:
Lord, at this footstool I would bow,
Bid conscience tell me plainly now,
What it will tell me then.
10 If in destruction's roads I stray,
Help me to choose that better way,
Which leads to joys on high;
Thy grace impart, my guilt forgive,
Nor let me ever dare to live,
Such as I dare not die.
Languages: English
On the swiftness of Time
On the Swiftness of Time
Hymnal: Divine Hymns, or Spiritual Songs #24 (1800) First Line: My days, my weeks, my months, my years Lyrics: 1 My days, my weeks, my months, my years
Fly rapid like the whirling spheres,
Around the steady pole:
Time like a tide its motion keeps,
Till I shall launch those boundless deeps,
Where endless ages roll.
2 The grave is near the cradle seen;
How swift the moments pass between
And whisper as thy fly,
Unthinking man remember this,
Thou, midst thy sublunary bliss,
Must groan, and gulp and die.
3 My soul attend the solemn call;
thine earthly tent must quickly fall,
And thou must take thy flight
Beyond the vast extensive blue,
To love and sing as angels do,
Or sink in endless night.
4 Eternal bliss, eternal woe,
Hangs on this inch of time below;
On this precarious breath,
The God of nature only knows,
Whether another year shall close,
Ere I expire in death.
5 Long ere the sun shall run its round,
I may be buried under ground,
And there in silence rot!
Alas one hour my close the scene
And ere twelve months may roll between
My name be quite forgot.
6 But shall my soul be then extinct,
Or cease to live, or cease to think?
It cannot, cannot be;
Thou, my immortal, cannot die,
What wilt thou do or whither fly,
When death shall set thee free;
7 Will mercy then its arms extend?
Will Jesus be thy guardian fried,
And heaven thy dwelling place?
Or shall insulting fiends appear
To drag thee down to dark despair,
Beyond the reach of grace?
8 A heaven or hell, and these alone,
Beyond this mortal life are known,
There is no middle state;
To-day attend the call divine,
To-morrow may be none of thine,
Or it may be too late.
9 O! do not pass this life in dreams
Vast is the change, whate'er it seems,
To poor unthinking men:
Lord, at thy footstool I would bow,
Bid conscience tell me plainly now,
What it will tell me then.
10 If in destruction's road I stray,
Help me to choose that better way,
Which leads to joys on high;
Thy grace impart, my guilt forgive,
Nor let me ever dare to live,
Such as I dare not die. Languages: English
On the Swiftness of Time
Think O, my soul
Hymnal: The Harp #44 (1840) First Line: My days, my weeks, my months, my years
Think O, my soul
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