A Tale That Is Told
Seconds, minutes, hours, years,
March toward history from today,
Each breath and heartbeat adding time
To our already-lengthened stay.
Summers pass, as soon the fall.
We grow as grass, are cut as hay.
Threescore and ten, and if by strength
Fourscore, our years soon fly away.
The swift we see win not the race,
Nor always strong the battle gain,
But “time and chance happen to all,”
So reasons earthly man, in vain.
With our Lord one day is long,
A thousand years, and yet these years
Seem as one day to Him Who sees
The whole, and guides through joys or tears.
From birth our promised days are “few
And full of trouble,” Job observes.
So teach us Lord to count our days
And wiser be, for Thee we serve.
Our youthful years are none too soon
To early seek and find the Lord:
Faith’s author and completer — Christ,
Who’s one with the Creator God.
What kind of children ought we be
Beside the One Who knows our frame,
Remembers we are dust and sends
The healing Spirit in His Name?
The flowers fade and lose their scent,
And moths and rust the treasure mar.
Oh, may we early learn, and well,
Untarnishable wealth to store!
— MGF