Hymn CCVII. Long Metre. The Importance of Time

O TIME, how few thy value weigh, How few will estimate a day! Days, months and years are rolling on, The soul neglected and undone.

In painful cares or empty joys Our life its precious hours destroys; Whilst death stands watching at our side, Eager to stop the living tide.

Was it for this, ye mortal race, Your maker gave you here a place? Was it for this, his thought design'd The frame of your immortal mind?

For nobler cares, for joys sublime, He fashioned all the sons of time; Pilgrims on earth, but soon to be The heirs of immortality.

This season of your being, know, Is given to you, your seeds to sow; Wisdom and folly's differing grain In future worlds is bliss and pain.

Then let me every day review, Idle or busy search it through; And whilst probation's minutes last, Let every day amend the past.