Stanza | Poetry Source by First Line | |||
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1 |
Death, like an overflowing stream, Sweeps us away; our life's a dream, An empty tale, a morning flow'r, Cut down and withered in an hour. |
THRO' ev'ry Age, Eternal God,, Stanza 5 |
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2 |
Our age to sev'nty years is set; How short the time! How frail the state! And if to eighty we arrive, We'd rather sigh and groan than live. |
THRO' ev'ry Age, Eternal God,, Stanza 6 |
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3 |
Teach us, Oh Lord, how frail is man; And kindly lengthen out the span, Till a wise care of piety Fit us to die and dwell with Thee. |
THRO' ev'ry Age, Eternal God,, Stanza 8 |