Isaac Watts · 446 of 724

Hymn 88

Life is the time to serve the Lord, The time t' insure the great reward; And while the lamp holds out to burn, The vilest sinner may return.

[Life is the hour that God has giv'n To 'scape from hell and fly to heav'n; The day of grace, and mortals may Secure the blessings of the day.]

The living know that they must die, But all the dead forgotten lie; Their mem'ry and their sense is gone, Alike unknowing and unknown.

[Their hatred and their love is lost, Their envy buried in the dust; They have no share in all that's done Beneath the circuit of the sun.]

Then what my thoughts design to do, My hands, with all your might pursue; Since no device nor work is found, Nor faith, nor hope, beneath the ground.

There are no acts of pardon passed In the cold grave, to which we haste; But darkness, death, and long despair, Reign in eternal silence there.