They cry to all, “Repent, believe,
And you shall pardon’d be;
Unless that blessing you receive,
You’re lost eternally!”
The dial faithful to its task,
The sun in yonder sky,
Both show to us without a mask,
How swift the moments fly!
“Redeem thy time!” they seem to say,
“Thy life is but a span;
For what are three score years and ten?
And that’s the age of man!”
Here on a level all are laid,
Here none the conquest have!
The robes that once the rich array’d,
Are tarnish’d by the grave!
The cheek which blossom’d like the rose,
Has lost its lovely charms;
That beauteous form the lover chose,
Is clasp’d in Death’s cold arms.
All earthly hopes, and earthly joys,
And prospects must decay;—
But they who serve their God aright,
Shall live in endless day!
How wondrously the scene is chang’d!
How lovely they appear!
I view them in their state arrang’d,
With more delight than fear!
Ah! once the scene was not so fair,
I scarce could read a stone!
But grace can conquer slavish fear,—
With joy I look thereon!
The opening grave oft spoil’d the hinge,
On which my fancy play’d;
The skulls and bones would make me cringe,
While I their forms survey’d.
Chill horror used to haunt my breast,
While sin therein remain’d;—
But Jesu’s name be ever blest,
I have his favour gain’d!