The Book of Worship ‎#414

414. Death rides on every passing breeze

1 Death rides on every passing breeze,
And lurks on every flower;
Each season has its own disease,
Its peril every hour!

2 Our eyes have seen the rosy light
Of youth's soft cheek decay;
And fate descend in sudden night
On manhood's middle day.

3 Our eye have seen the steps of age
Halt feebly to the tomb;
And yet shall earth our heart engage,
And dreams of days to come?

4 Then, mortal, turn! thy danger know;
Where'er thy foot can tread,
The earth rings hollow from below,
And warns thee of our dead!

5 Turn, mortal, turn! thy soul apply
To truth divinely given:
The dead, who underneath thee lie,
Shall live for hell or heaven!

Text Information

• First Line: Death rides on every passing breeze
• Meter: C. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1867
• Topic: Life: Its Brevity

Tune Information

(No tune information)