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1. How short the race our friend has run,
Cut down in all his bloom!
The course but yesterdiy begun
Now finished in the tomb!
2. Thou joyous youth! hence learn how soon
Thy years may end their flight:
Long, long before life's brilliant noon
May come death's gloomy night.
3. To serve thy God no longer wait,
To-day his voice regard;
To-morrow, mercy's open gate
May be for ever barr'd.
4. And thus the Lord reveals his grace,
Thy youthful love to gain;
"The soul that early seeks my face
Shall never seek in vain."