The Book of Worship ‎#425

425. Teach me the measure of my days

1 Teach me the measure of my days,
Thou Maker of my frame!
I would survey life's narrow space,
And learn how frail I am.

2 A span is all that we can boast,
A fleeting hour of time:
Man is but vanity and dust,
In all his flower and prime.

3 See the vain race of mortals move,
Like shadows o'er the plain:
They rage and strive, desire and love,
But all the noise is vain.

4 Some walk in honor's gaudy show;
Some dig for golden ore;
They toil for heirs, they know not who,
And straight are seen no more.

5 What should I wish or wait for then,
From creatures, earth and dust?
They make our expectations vain,
And disappoint our trust.

6 Now I resign my earthly hope,
My fond desires recall;
I give my mortal interest up,
And make my God my all.

Text Information

• First Line: Teach me the measure of my days
• Meter: C. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1867
• Topic: Life: Its Duties and Object

Tune Information

(No tune information)