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Our life is like a vapour, gone,
Our moments swiftly fly;
Scarcely our sands begin to run,
Ere we begin to die.
Our days on earth are but a span,
A sudden breath of air;
Lord, what a brittle thing is man,
How vain is mortal care.
Various unnumbered ills attend
Our weak and helpless frame,
Our fleeting life, so soon it ends,
It scarce deserves the name.
No weaver’s shuttle moves so fast,
No stream so swiftly flows;
Time bears us on with rapid haste,
To endless joys or woes.
Sickness and sorrow round us wait,
And nature is infirm;
Our age to seventy years is set,
Alas, how short the term!
Or should we by uncommon strength
To fourscore years attain,
Yet feebleness will come at length,
And bring disease and pain.
Oh may I learn the heavenly art,
T’improve each passing hour;
And what my hands shall find to do,
Dispatch with all my power.
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marker 99
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1818 | # 712 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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TALLIS' ORDINAL
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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c. 1567
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 172 | D | | # 310 | D | | # 304 | D | | # 607 | D | | # 78 | D | | # 208 | D | | # 332 | Eb | | # 459 | Eb | | # 73 | Eb | | # 72 | Eb | | # 508 | Eb | | # 77 | E | | # 385 | E |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
