The glass has turned, and hark! the measured chime
Proclaims another hour of passing time;
Untold its value, as it swiftly flies;
The newborn hour appears, runs out—and dies!
Now is salvation nearer than the day
When we to God from idols turned away.
Scant is the measure, quickly runs the sand,
Christ on the threshold—on the latch, His hand!
Darker the shades around of evening lower;
"Watch," He has said, "for no man knows the hour."
The minutes, rushing onward, swiftly pass—
Wake, sleeper, wake, as turns the warning glass!
Soon in the Father's presence we shall stand:
"Forever!" measured nor by wheel nor sand.
Teach us eternal worth, while moments flee,
Whether we live or die, O Lord, for Thee!