Mortals! Around Your Destined Heads

Mortals! around your destined heads Thick fly the shafts of death, And lo! the savage spoiler spreads A thousand toils beneath. In vain we trifle with our fate, Try every art in vain; At best we but prolong the date, And lengthen out our pain. Fondly we think all danger fled, For death is ever nigh; Outstrips our unavailing speed, Or meets us as we fly. Thus the wrecked mariner may strive Some desert shore to gain, Secure of life, if he survive The fury of the main. But there, to famine doomed a prey, Finds the mistaken wretch He but escaped the troubled sea, To perish on the beach. Since then in vain we strive to guard Our frailty from the foe, Lord, let me live not unprepared To meet the fatal blow!