A FUNERAL HYMN, FOR A SCHOLAR, OR OTHER YOUNG PERSON.
Vain man, of mortal parents born,
Know thou art born to die!
How frail our state, how short our life,
How full of misery!
As flowers from mother-earth we rise,
A fading bloom we spread;
As soon we waste and pass away
Among the' unnumber'd dead.
As shadows glide o'er hills and dales,
And yet no tracks appear;
So swift we vanish hence; our souls
Have no abiding here.
The mourners go about the streets
With solemn steps and slow;
Thus must it be for you and me,
To the same home we go.
So teach us, Lord, to number out
Our life's uncertain days,
We sweetly may our heart apply
To heavenly wisdom's ways.
O holy Lord! O mighty God!
When we resign our breath,
Then save us from the bitter pains
Of everlasting death.
