The Swift Declining Day

The swift-declining day,
How fast its moments fly!
While evening’s broad and gloomy shade
Gains on the western sky.

Ye mortals! mark its pace,
And use the hours of light;
For know, its Maker can command
At once eternal night.

Give glory to the Lord,
Who rules the whirling sphere;
Submissive at his footstool bow,
And seek salvation there.

Then shall new luster break
Through death’s impending gloom,
And lead you to unchanging light,
In your celestial home.