The technical intricacies of these two verses
have not debarred them from the attainment of wide popularity:
My race beneath the sun
Is very nearly run;
Life fades away in sad decay,
Soon shall my day be done:
My fragile tent is sorely rent,
My strength is spent well-nigh;
The hour is near--I must appear
In doubt and fear within the clear
Immortal sphere on high.
Grant, Lord, Thy peace to me,
And Thy dear face to see;
Before my day has passed away,
All sinless may I be!
Thy gracious light in death's dark night
Shall soon my fright dispel:
In Thy right hand on yonder strand,
Where fears disband my soul shall stand--
Sweet land! where all is well!