The Days Are Swiftly Going By,
The Fleeting, Passing Moments Say;
With Rapid Wing They Speed Away,
Nor In Their Onward Journey Stay.

Thy Grace, O Lord, On Us Bestow,
Teach Us The Ways Of Sin To Shun;
Give Us The Joys Of Heaven To Know,
When Life’s Short Race With Us Is Run.

The Morning Light But Scarcely Breaks
Before The Night’s Dark Gloom Appears;
An Everlasting Flight It Takes,
And Joins The Dead And Buried Years.

Life Is A Day That Soon Is Over,
A Span Of Time That Quickly Flies;
And Then We Sleep, To Dream No More
Till Resurrection’s Morn We Rise.