Hymnal: The Pilgrim's Hymn Book
Date: 1816
Compiler: Joseph Thomas
Publisher/Printer: J Foster
First Line: Lord what a feeble piece
Topic: <no topic given>
Writer: <no first name given> <no last name given>
Composer:
Meter: SM
Tune:
Hymn Number: CXL
Page Number: 186, click to see hymnal pages
LyicsLord what a feeble piece,
Is this our mortal frame?
Our life, how poor a trifle 'tis
That scarce deserves the name.
Alas! the brittle clay
That built our body first!
And ev'ry month and ev'ry day,
'Tis mouldring back to dust.
Our moments fly apace;
Our feeble pow'rs decay;
Swift as a flood our hasty days
Are sweeping us away.
Yet, if our days must fly,
We'll keep their end in sight;
We'll spend them all in wisdom's ways
And let them speed their flight.
They'll waft us sooner o'er
This life's tempest'ous sea;
Soon we shall reach that peaceful shore
Of blest eternity.