Isaac Watts

Hymn 32

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Frailty and folly.

How short and hasty is our life!
How vast our souls' affairs!
Yet senseless mortals vainly strive
To lavish out their years.

Our days run thoughtlessly along,
Without a moment's stay;
Just like a story or a song
We pass our lives away.

God from on high invites us home,
But we march heedless on,
And ever hast'ning to the tomb,
Stoop downwards as we run.

How we deserve the deepest hell,
That slight the joys above!
What chains of vengeance should we feel,
That break such cords of love!

Draw us, O God, with sovereign grace,
And lift our thoughts on high,
That we may end this mortal race,
And see salvation nigh.

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Isaac Watts