2 Our fathers, where are they, 3 God of our fathers! hear; 4 Of all the pious dead May we the footsteps trace, Till with them, in the land of light, Man mortal, and God eternal. Ps. 90. 1 THROUGH every age, eternal God, 2 Long hast thou reigned ere time began, 3 A thousand of our years amount 5 Teach us, O Lord, how frail is man! And kindly lengthen out our span, Till a wise care of piety Fit us to die and dwell with thee. Man frail, and God eternal. Ps. 90. 1 OUR God, our help in ages past, 2 Before the hills in order stood, 3 Thy word commands our flesh to dust, 4 A thousand ages, in thy sight, Are like an evening gone; Short as the watch that ends the night, 5 Time, like an ever-rolling stream, 6 Like flowery fields the nations stand, Pleased with the morning light: The flowers beneath the mower's hand Lie withering ere 't is night. 7 Our God, our help in ages past, Be thou our guard while troubles last, Frailty and Shortness of Life. Ps. 90. 2 Alas! 'twas brittle clay 3 Our moments fly apace, Nor will our minutes stay; 4 Well, if our days must fly, We'll keep their end in sight; 5 They'll waft us sooner o'er Soon we shall reach the peaceful shore 351 447. C. M. TATE & BRADY. Man frail, and God eternal. Ps. 90. 1 O LORD, the saviour and defence From age to age thou still hast been 2 Before thou brought'st the mountains forth, 3 Thou turnest man, O Lord, to dust, And when thou speak'st the word, Return, 'Tis instantly obeyed. 4 For in thy sight a thousand years Or like a watch in dead of night, 5 So teach us, Lord, the uncertain sum That to true wisdom all our hearts Our Bodies frail, and God our Preserver. 1 LET others boast how strong they be, But we'll confess, O Lord, to thee, 2 Fresh as the grass our bodies stand, A blasting wind sweeps o'er the land, 3 Our life contains a thousand springs, Strange! that a harp of thousand strings Should keep in tune so long. 4 But 'tis our God supports our frame, The God who built us first; Salvation to the Almighty Name That reared us from the dust. 5 While we have breath, or use our tongues, Our Maker we'll adore; His Spirit moves our heaving lungs, 449. C. M. WATTS. Frail Life, and succeeding Eternity. 1 THEE we adore, Eternal Name, 2 Our wasting lives grow shorter still, 3 The year rolls round, and steals away |