Moments and minutes, hours and days,

To weeks, and months, and years amount;

Not one beyond its date delays:

For these we each must soon account.

How well, how ill, howe'er employ'd,

Our health, our strength, our talents lent;

All we have suffer'd and enjoy'd,

In wisdom or in folly spent:--

The secret things in darkness seal'd,

All we have felt, thought, spoken, done;

In heaven's pure light must be reveal'd,

When time's last act puts out the sun.

With every twinkling of an eye,

With every step, pulse, motion, breath;

The longest human life draws nigh,

And nigher to the gates of death.

The past we never can recall,

The present none has power to hold;

The future is not--few of all

The millions born on earth grow old.

What, then, are we, and whither bent?

Our Saviour calls--let us obey;

This moment, minute, hour, repent,

And live for ever from this day.