My Days Are Swiftly Gliding By (EN 1516)

EN 1516 My Days Are Swiftly Gliding By

Ps.102.11

Versi Version 1

1

My days are gliding swiftly by;

And I, a pilgrim stranger,

Would not detain them as they fly,

Those hours of toil and labor.

For, oh! we stand on Jordan’s strand;

Our friends are passing over;

And, just before, the shining shore

We may almost discover.

2

We’ll gird our loins, my brethren dear,

Our distant home discerning:

Our waiting Lord has left us word,

Let ev’ry lamp be burning.

3

Should coming days be cold and dark,

We need not cease our singing:

That perfect rest naught can molest,

Where golden harps are ringing.

4

Let sorrow’s rudest tempest blow,

Each cord on earth to sever:

Our King says, “Come,” and there’s our home,

Forever, oh! forever.

OK

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