Time How Swift

While with ceaseless course the sun Hasted through the former year, Many souls their race have run, Never more to meet us here; Fixed in an eternal fate, They have done with all below. We a little longer wait, But how little -- none can know. As the winged arrow flies Speedily the mark to find; As the lightning from the skies Darts, and leaves no trace behind, Swiftly thus our fleeting days Bear us down life's rapid stream. Upward, Lord, our spirits raise; All below is but a dream. Thanks for mercies past receive, Pardon of our sins renew; Teach us, henceforth how to live With eternity in view. Bless Thy Word to young and old, Fill us with a Saviour's love; And when life's short tale is told, May we dwell with Thee above.