Many souls their race have run, Never more to meet us here: Fix'd in an eternal state, They have fled from all below; We a little longer wait,
But how little none can know.
2 As the winged arrow flies, Swift its destin'd mark to find; As the lightning from the skies, Darts and leaves no trace behind; Thus with speed our fleeting days Bear us down life's rapid stream: Lord, on high our wishes raise; All on earth is but a dream.
3 Thanks for mercies past receive; Pardon of our sins renew;
'Teach us henceforth how to live, With eternity in view:
Guide the young, and warn
the old; Bid them seek the Saviour's love; That when life's brief tale is told, All may dwell with thee above.
The barren fig tree: for the end of the year.
1 See in the vineyard of the Lord, A barren fig tree stand; It yields no fruit, no blossom bears, Though planted by his hand.
2 From year to year he seeks for fruit, And still no fruit is found;
It stands among the living trees, Encumbering the ground.
3 But lo! the gracious Saviour pleads "The barren fig tree spare;
In mercy stay the threat'ning hand, And grant another year.
4 Perhaps some means of grace untri’d, May reach the stony heart; Or the soft dews of tender love, May heav'nly life impart.
5 But if all means should prove in vain, And still no fruit appear;
Then mercy may no longer plead, Nor ask another year."
The seasons crowned with goodness.
1 Eternal source of every joy! Well may thy praise our lips employ, While in thy temple we appear, To hail thee Sov'reign of the year.
2 Wide as the wheels of nature roll, Thy hand supports and guides the whole; The sun is taught by thee to rise, And darkness when to veil the skies. 3 The flow'ry spring at thy command, Perfumes the air and paints the land; The summer rays with vigor shine To raise the corn and cheer the vine. 4 Thy hand in autumn richly pours Through all our coast redundant stores;
And winter, soften'd by thy care, No more the face of horror wear.
5 Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days, Demand successive songs of praise; And be the grateful homage paid, With morning light and ev'ning shade. 6 Here in thy house let incense rise, And circling sabbaths bless our eyes, Till to those lofty heights we soar, Where days and years revolve no more.
1 While beauty decks the fertile vale, And blossoms on the spray,
And fragrance breathes in every gale; How sweet the vernal day.
2 And, hark! the feather'd warblers sing; 'Tis nature's cheerful voice; Soft music hails the balmy Spring, And woods and fields rejoice.
3 Thus to my soul, O God of grace, Thy life and warmth impart; Bid ev'ry trace of winter cease, And Spring revive my heart.
4 Inspir'd to praise, I then shall join Glad nature's cheerful song;
And love and gratitude divine, Attune my joyful tongue.
1 My soul, the God of seasons praise; My tongue his goodness sing; Summer and winter know their time, And harvest crowns the spring.
2 Well pleas'd the toiling swains behold The waving yellow crop;
With joy they bear the sheaves away, And sow again in hope.
3 Thus teach me, gracious God, to sow The seeds of righteousness; Smile on my soul, and with thy beams The rip'ning harvest bless.
4 Then in the last great harvest, I Shall reap a glorious crop;
The harvest shall by far exceed What I have sown in hope.
1 See the leaves around us falling, Dry and wither'd to the ground; Thus to thoughtless mortals calling, In a sad and solemn sound:
2 "Sons of Adam, (once in Eden, Where like us he blighted fell;) Hear the lesson we are reading; Mark the awful truth we tell.
3 Youth on length of days presuming, Who the paths of pleasure tread;
View us late in beauty blooming, Number'd now among the dead: 4 What though yet no losses grieve you, Gay with health and many a grace; Let not cloudless skies deceive you; Summer gives to autumn place. 5 Yearly in our course returning, Messengers of shortest stay, Thus we preach this truth concerning Heav'n and earth shall pass away."
6 On the tree of life eternal,
O let all our hopes be laid;
This alone, forever vernal,
Bears a leaf that shall not fade.
1 Stern winter throws his icy chains, Encircling nature round;
How bleak, how comfortless the plains, Late with gay verdure crown'd.
2 The sun withdraws his gen'rous beams, And light and warmth depart,
And drooping, lifeless nature seems An emblem of my heart!
3 O happy state, divine abode!
Where spring eternal reigns, And perfect day, the smile of God, Fills all the heavenly plains.
4 Great source of light, thy beams display; My drooping joys restore,
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