Like mist on the mountain, Like ships on the sea,
January 1, 1831
Like mist on the mountain, Like ships on the sea,So swiftly the years Of our pilgrimage flee;In the grave of our fathers How soon we shall lie!Dear children, to-day To a Saviour fly.
How sweet are the flowerets In April and May!But often the frost makes Them wither away.Like flowers you may fade: Are you ready to die?While “yet there is room” To a Saviour fly.
When Samuel was young, He first knew the Lord,He slept in his smile And rejoiced in his word.So most of God’s children Are early brought nigh:Oh, seek him in youth— To a Saviour fly.
Do you ask me for pleasure? Then lean on his breast,For there the sin laden And weary find rest.In the valley of death You will triumphing cry—“If this be called dying, ’Tis pleasant to die!”
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