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James Montgomery

Children numbering their Days.

The pure and peaceful mind,

The meek and lowly heart,

The patient will to Thine resign'd

God of all power impart.

Young though in years we be,

In health and spirits strong;

What is the life of man to Thee?

The longest is not long.


A thousand years, a day,

Are equal in Thy sight;

Our generations pass away,

Like watches of the night.

Lord, make us timely wise

To know our call of grace;

And with the moment, as it flies,

Run our appointed race:

Still keep the end in view,

Tarry nor turn aside,

Perils, allurements, bonds break through,

Most faithful when most tried!

Thus, till we reach the goal,

All else we count but loss;

Nor till we gain the prize,--our soul,--

Grow weary of the Cross.

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