Many souls their race have run,
Never more to meet us here:
Fix'd in an eternal state,
They have fled from all below;
We a little longer wait,
But how little none can know.
2 As the winged arrow flies,
Swift its destin'd mark to find;
As the lightning from the skies,
Darts and leaves no trace behind;
Thus with speed our fleeting days
Bear us down life's rapid stream:
Lord, on high our wishes raise;
All on earth is but a dream.
3 Thanks for mercies past receive;
Pardon of our sins renew;
'Teach us henceforth how to live, With eternity in view:
Guide the young, and warn
the old; Bid them seek the Saviour's love; That when life's brief tale is told, All may dwell with thee above.
The barren fig tree: for the end of the year.
1 See in the vineyard of the Lord,
A barren fig tree stand;
It yields no fruit, no blossom bears,
Though planted by his hand.
2 From year to year he seeks for fruit,
And still no fruit is found;
It stands among the living trees,
Encumbering the ground.
3 But lo! the gracious Saviour pleads
"The barren fig tree spare;
In mercy stay the threat'ning hand,
And grant another year.
4 Perhaps some means of grace untri’d,
May reach the stony heart;
Or the soft dews of tender love,
May heav'nly life impart.
5 But if all means should prove in vain,
And still no fruit appear;
Then mercy may no longer plead,
Nor ask another year."
The seasons crowned with goodness.
1 Eternal source of every joy!
Well may thy praise our lips employ,
While in thy temple we appear,
To hail thee Sov'reign of the year.
2 Wide as the wheels of nature roll,
Thy hand supports and guides the whole;
The sun is taught by thee to rise,
And darkness when to veil the skies.
3 The flow'ry spring at thy command,
Perfumes the air and paints the land;
The summer rays with vigor shine
To raise the corn and cheer the vine.
4 Thy hand in autumn richly pours
Through all our coast redundant stores;
And winter, soften'd by thy care,
No more the face of horror wear.
5 Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days,
Demand successive songs of praise;
And be the grateful homage paid,
With morning light and ev'ning shade.
6 Here in thy house let incense rise,
And circling sabbaths bless our eyes,
Till to those lofty heights we soar,
Where days and years revolve no more.
1 While beauty decks the fertile vale,
And blossoms on the spray,
And fragrance breathes in every gale;
How sweet the vernal day.
2 And, hark! the feather'd warblers sing;
'Tis nature's cheerful voice;
Soft music hails the balmy Spring,
And woods and fields rejoice.
3 Thus to my soul, O God of grace,
Thy life and warmth impart;
Bid ev'ry trace of winter cease,
And Spring revive my heart.
4 Inspir'd to praise, I then shall join
Glad nature's cheerful song;
And love and gratitude divine,
Attune my joyful tongue.
1 My soul, the God of seasons praise;
My tongue his goodness sing;
Summer and winter know their time,
And harvest crowns the spring.
2 Well pleas'd the toiling swains behold
The waving yellow crop;
With joy they bear the sheaves away,
And sow again in hope.
3 Thus teach me, gracious God, to sow
The seeds of righteousness;
Smile on my soul, and with thy beams
The rip'ning harvest bless.
4 Then in the last great harvest, I
Shall reap a glorious crop;
The harvest shall by far exceed
What I have sown in hope.
1 See the leaves around us falling,
Dry and wither'd to the ground;
Thus to thoughtless mortals calling,
In a sad and solemn sound:
2 "Sons of Adam, (once in Eden,
Where like us he blighted fell;)
Hear the lesson we are reading;
Mark the awful truth we tell.
3 Youth on length of days presuming,
Who the paths of pleasure tread;
View us late in beauty blooming,
Number'd now among the dead:
4 What though yet no losses grieve you,
Gay with health and many a grace;
Let not cloudless skies deceive you;
Summer gives to autumn place.
5 Yearly in our course returning,
Messengers of shortest stay,
Thus we preach this truth concerning
Heav'n and earth shall pass away."
6 On the tree of life eternal,
O let all our hopes be laid;
This alone, forever vernal,
Bears a leaf that shall not fade.
1 Stern winter throws his icy chains,
Encircling nature round;
How bleak, how comfortless the plains,
Late with gay verdure crown'd.
2 The sun withdraws his gen'rous beams,
And light and warmth depart,
And drooping, lifeless nature seems
An emblem of my heart!
3 O happy state, divine abode!
Where spring eternal reigns,
And perfect day, the smile of God,
Fills all the heavenly plains.
4 Great source of light, thy beams display;
My drooping joys restore,
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