Like shadows flee his days,
He marks not how they vanish from his gaze,
Now like a flower blowing,
Now scorched by sunbeams glowing.
And wilt Thou of his trespasses inquire?
How may he ever bear
Thine anger just, Thy vengeance dire?
Then spare him, be Thou merciful, O King,
Upon the dreaded day of reckoning!
Almighty! what is man?