Life is the time to serve the Lord,

The time t' insure the great reward;

And while the lamp holds out to burn,

The vilest sinner may return.

[Life is the hour that God has giv'n

To 'scape from hell and fly to heav'n;

The day of grace, and mortals may

Secure the blessings of the day.]

The living know that they must die,

But all the dead forgotten lie;

Their mem'ry and their sense is gone,

Alike unknowing and unknown.

[Their hatred and their love is lost,

Their envy buried in the dust;

They have no share in all that's done

Beneath the circuit of the sun.]

Then what my thoughts design to do,

My hands, with all your might pursue;

Since no device nor work is found,

Nor faith, nor hope, beneath the ground.

There are no acts of pardon passed

In the cold grave, to which we haste;

But darkness, death, and long despair,

Reign in eternal silence there.