1 Through every age, eternal God,
Thou art our rest, our safe abode:
High was Thy throne ere heaven was made;
Or earth Thy humble footstool laid.

2 Long hadst Thou reigned ere time began,
Or dust was fashioned into man:
And long Thy kingdom shall endure.
When earth and time shall be no more.

3 But man, weak man, is born to die,
Made up of guilt and vanity;
Thy dreadful sentence, Lord, was just--
"Return, ye sinners, to your dust."

4 Death, like an overflowing stream.
Sweeps us away; our life's a dream--
An empty tale--a morning flower.
Cut down and withered in an hour.

5 Teach us, O Lord, how frail is man;
And kindly lengthen out our spar,
Till a wise care of piety
Fit us to die and dwell with Thee.