Remark, My Soul, the Narrow Bounds

Remark

my soul

the nar­row bounds

Of the re­volv­ing year!

How swift the weeks com­plete their rounds

How short the months ap­pear!

So fast eter­ni­ty comes on

And that im­port­ant day

When all that mor­tal life has done

God’s judg­ment shall sur­vey.

Yet like an idle tale we pass

The swift ad­vanc­ing year;

And stu­dy art­ful ways t’in­crease

The speed of its ca­reer.

Waken

O God

my trif­ling heart

Its great con­cern to see;

That I may act the Christ­ian part

And give the year to Thee.

So shall their course more grate­ful roll

If fu­ture years arise;

Or this shall bear my smil­ing soul

To joy that nev­er dies.