4 How oft they look to th' heavenly hills,
Where groves of living pleasure grow!
And longing hopes and cheerful smiles
Sit undisturb'd upon their brow.]
5 They scorn to seek our golden toys,
But spend the day and share the night
In numbering o'er the richer joys
That heaven prepares for their delight.
6 While wretched we, like worms and moles,
Lie grovelling in the dust below:
Almighty grace, renew our souls,
And we'll aspire to glory too.
Hymn 2:58
The shortness of life, and the goodness of God.
1 Time! what an empty vapour 'tis!
And days how swift they are!
Swift as an Indian arrow flies,
Or like a shooting star.
2 [The present moments just appear,
Then slide away in haste,
That we can never say, "They're here,"
But only say, "They're past."]
3 [Our life is ever on the wing,
And death is ever nigh;
The moment when our lives begin
We all begin to die.]
4 Yet, mighty God, our fleeting days
Thy lasting favours share,
Yet with the bounties of thy grace
Thou load'st the rolling year.
5 'Tis sovereign mercy finds us food,
And we are cloth d with love;
While grace stands pointing out the road
That leads our souls above.
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