Like shadows gliding o'er the plain
1
Like shadows gliding o'er the plain,Or clouds that roll successive on,Man's busy generations pass,And while we gaze, their forms are gone.
2
We live, we die: behold the sumOf good or ill on life's fair page;Alike in God's all-seeing eye,The infant's day, the patriarch's age.
3
O Father, in whose mighty handThe boundless years and ages lie,Teach us thy boon of life to prize,And use the moments as they fly.