266 KINGWOOD

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My days, my weeks, my months, my years,
Fly rapid as the whirling spheres,
Fly rapid as the whirling spheres,
Around the steady pole.
Time, like the tide, its motion keeps,
And I must launch thro' endless deeps,
And I must launch thro' endless deeps,
Where endless ages roll.

The grave is near the cradle seen,
How swift the moments pass between,
How swift the moments pass between,
And whisper as they fly.
"Unthinking man, remember this,
Though fond of sublunary bliss,
Though fond of sublunary bliss,
That you must groan and die."

My soul, attend the solemn call,
Thine earthly tent must shortly fall,
Thine earthly tent must shortly fall,
And thou must take thy flight.
Beyond the vast expansive blue,
To sing above, as angels do,
To sing above, as angels do,
Or sing in endless night.

Joshua Smith's Divine Hymns, 1794.