Congregational singing
Metropolitan Tabernacle, London
My end, Lord, make me know,
My days how soon they fail;
And to my thoughtful spirit show
How weak I am and frail.
To Thine eternal thought
My days are but a span,
To Thee my years appear as nought;
A breath − at best − is man.
O Lord, regard my fears,
And answer my request,
Turn not in silence from my tears,
But give the mourner rest.
I am a stranger here,
Dependent on Thy grace,
A pilgrim as my fathers were,
With no abiding place.
O spare me and forgive,
Ere this short life is past,
That I may serve Thee here, and live
With Thee in Heaven at last.
(Psalm 39)
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| Music | Upload TimePublished on 12 May 2016 |
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