Remark, My Soul, The Narrow Bounds
Of The Revolving Year!
How Swift The Weeks Complete Their Rounds,
How Short The Months Appear!
So Fast Eternity Comes On,
And That Important Day,
When All That Mortal Life Has Done
God’s Judgment Shall Survey.
Yet Like An Idle Tale We Pass
The Swift Advancing Year;
And Study Artful Ways T’increase
The Speed Of Its Career.
Waken, O God, My Trifling Heart
Its Great Concern To See;
That I May Act The Christian Part,
And Give The Year To Thee.
So Shall Their Course More Grateful Roll,
If Future Years Arise;
Or This Shall Bear My Smiling Soul
To Joy That Never Dies.
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