Hymn LV. Common Metre. The Consolations of Age

Eternal God, enthron'd on high, Whom angel hosts adore; Who yet to suppliant dust art nigh, Thy presence I implore.

O guide me down the steep of age, And keep my passions cool; Teach me to scan the sacred page, And practise every rule.

My flying years, time urges on, My strength must soon decay; My friends, my youth's companions gone, Can I expect to stay?

Can I exemption plead, when death Projects his awful dart? Can med'cines then prolong my breath, Or cordials shield my heart?

But thou canst cheer my mortal hour, On thee my hope depends; Support me by almighty power, While dust to dust descends.

Then let my soul, O gracious God, Ascend to realms of day; And in that sacred blest abode, Its endless anthems pay.

Throughout the heaven's remotest bound Thy matchless love proclaim; And join the choir of saints that sound Their great Redeemer's name.