A little before it is day
The Lord our God He for-gave us,
And bids us awake and pray.
The life of man is but a span,
And cut down in its flower,
We're here to-day, to-morrow gone,
The creatures of an hour.
To-day you may be alive and well,
Worth many a thousand pound;
To-morrow dead and cold as clay,
Your corpse laid underground.
With one turf at thine head, O man,
And another at thy feet;
Thy good deeds and thy bad, O man,
Will all together meet.
My song is done, I must be gone,
I can stay no longer here;
God bless you all, both great and small,
And send you a joyful new year.