Time like a fleeting shadow flies
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Time like a fleeting shadow flies,
My house of clay must fall;
This tabernacle must decay
And vanish as a scrawl.
My youth and age, my months and years
Like grass and flow'rs decay;
Before the mower's scythe of death
They soon will pass away.
But far beyond death's gloomy vale
A heav'nly building stands;
Prolific streams of glory flow
In those celestial lands.
To that bright world, that house above,
My longing spirit soars,
Where God, my heavn'ly Father lives,
And ev'ry saint adores.
Then let this earthly mansion fall
And set my spirit free;
Why should I wish to stay below,
And stay so long from thee?
I'm but a pilgrim far from home,
While here on earth I stay;
My brightest moments are but night
Compared with endless day.
Then let me wait, and live by faith,
Till I am called away;
And to that brighter world ascend,
That house which can't decay.
Let all my fleeting moments pass;
Earth's painted toys may fade;
O, Jesus, my eternal life
Support me through the shade.
Then to that world of light and love,
Immortal and divine,
Bring this poor pilgrim from the tomb,
This trembling soul of mine. |
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