v.47ff
8,8,8,8,8,8
Life, death, and the resurrection.
Think, mighty God, on feeble man;
How few his hours! how short his span!
Short from the cradle to the grave
Who can secure his vital breath
Against the bold demands of death,
With skill to fly, or power to save?
Lord, shall it be for ever said,
“The race of man was only made
For sickness, sorrow, and the dust?”
Are not thy servants day by day
Sent to their graves, and turned to clay?
Lord, where’s thy kindness to the just?
Hast thou not promised to thy Son
And all his seed a heav’nly crown?
But flesh and sense indulge despair:
For ever blessed be the Lord,
That faith can read his holy word,
And find a resurrection there.
For ever blessed be the Lord,
Who gives his saints a long reward
For all their toil, reproach, and pain:
Let all below and all above
Join to proclaim thy wondrous love,
And each repeat their loud Amen.
(Isaac Watts)
More Poetry from Isaac Watts:
Isaac Watts Poems based on Topics: God, Love, Man, Death & Dying, Life, Sadness, Belief & Faith, Pain- Cradle Hymn (Isaac Watts Poems)
- Hymn 69 (Isaac Watts Poems)
- Hymn 117 (Isaac Watts Poems)
- Psalm 10 (Isaac Watts Poems)
- Psalm 78 part 4 (Isaac Watts Poems)
- Hymn 37 part 2 (Isaac Watts Poems)