Make haste, O man, to live,
For thou so soon must die;
Time hurries past thee like the breeze;
How swift its moments fly!

To breathe, and wake, and sleep,
To smile, to sigh, to grieve;
To move in idleness through earth,
This, this is not to live!

Up, then, with speed, and work;
Fling ease and self away;
This is no time for thee to sleep,
Up, watch, and work, and pray!

The useful, not the great,
The thing that never dies,
The silent toil that is not lost—
Set these before thine eyes.

The seed, whose leaf and flower,
Though poor in human sight,
Bring forth at last th’eternal fruit,
Sow thou by day and night.

Make haste, O man, to live,
Thy time is almost o’er;
O sleep not, dream not, but arise,
The Judge is at the door!

The moon shines bright and the stars give a light
A little before the day:
Our mighty Lord He looked on us,
And bade us awake and pray.

Awake, awake, good people all,
Awake, and you shall hear,
The Lord our God died on the cross
For us He loved so dear.

O fair, O fair Jerusalem,
When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end,
Thy joy that I may see?

The fields were green as green could be,
When from His glorious seat,
Our blessèd Father watered us,
With His heavenly dew so sweet.

And for the saving of our souls
Christ died upon the cross;
We ne’er shall do for Jesus Christ
As He hath done for us.

The life of man is but a span,
And cut down in its flower,
We’re here today, tomorrow gone,
The creatures of an hour.

Instruct and teach your children well,
The while that you are here;
It will be better for your soul,
When your corpse lies on the bier.

Today you may be alive and well,
Worth many a thousand pound;
Tomorrow dead and cold as clay,
Your corpse laid underground.

With one turf at thine head, O man,
And another at thy feet;
Thy good deeds and thy bad, O man,
Will altogether meet.

My song is done, I must be gone,
I can stay no longer here;
God bless you all, both great and small,
And send you a joyful new year!

What sweet of life endureth
Unmixed with bitter pain?
’Midst earthly change and chances
What glory doth remain?

All is a feeble shadow,
A dream that will not stay;
Death cometh in a moment,
And taketh all away.

O Christ, a light transcendent
Shines in Thy countenance,
And none can tell the sweetness,
The beauty of Thy glance.

In this may Thy poor servant
His joy eternal find;
Thou calledst him, O rest him,
Thou Lover of mankind!