It is the Lord our Savior's hand
Weakens our strength amidst the race;
Disease and death at his command
Arrest us, and cut short our days.
Spare us, O Lord, aloud we pray,
Nor let our sun go down at noon;
Thy years are one eternal day,
And must thy children die so soon?
Yet in the midst of death and grief
This thought our sorrow should assuage:
Our Father and our Savior live;
Christ is the same through every age.
'Twas he this earth's foundation laid;
Heav'n is the building of his hand;
This earth grows old, these heav'ns shall fade
And all be changed at his command.
The starry curtains of the sky,
Like garments, shall be laid aside;
But still thy throne stands firm on high,
Thy church for ever must abide.
Before thy face thy church shall live,
And on thy throne thy children reign;
This dying world shall they survive,
And the dead saints be raised again.
~ Isaac Watts