302
S. M.
Boast not thyself of to-morrow.
Prov. 27:1.
To-morrow, Lord! is thine,
Lodged in thy sovereign hand;
And if its sun arise and shine,
It shines by thy command.
2 The present moment flies,
And bears our life away;
O, make thy servants truly wise,
That they may live to-day.
3 Since on this fleeting hour
Eternity is hung,
Awake, by thine almighty power,
The agéd and the young.
4 One thing demands our care;
O, be it still pursued!
Lest, slighted once, the season fair
Should never be renewed.
5 To Jesus may we fly,
Swift as the morning light,
Lest life’s young, golden beams should die
In sudden, endless night.
Doddridge.