As flows the rapid river,

With channel broad and free,

Its waters rippling ever,

And hastening to the sea;

So life is onward flowing,

And days of offered peace,

And man is swiftly going

Where calls of mercy cease.

2 As moons are ever waning,

As hastes the sun away,

As stormy winds, complaining,

Bring on the wintery day:

So fast the night comes o’er us—

The darkness of the grave;

The death is just before us;

God takes the life he gave.

3 Say, hath thy heart its treasure

Laid up in worlds above?

And is it all thy pleasure

Thy God to praise and love?

Beware lest death’s dark river

Its billows o’er thee roll,

And thou lament for ever

The ruin of thy soul.