HOW short the date of man! how soon he's gone!
To-day, alive - to-morrow, in the tomb!
Strong as a giant, now - a corpse, anon!
Such is our state on earth, and such our doom!

Not one of us, in a few moments space,
Shall, unremov'd, remain beneath the sun:
O, let us think then of our destin'd race;
It must perchance be this next night begun!

As hastes the sun unto the close of day,
Or as a taper spends itself full fast,
Or as the full-blown rose drops from the spray,
Or as a mist upon the lake is past :

So soon all mortals to their exit haste!
So soon they all are spent, and gone away!
So soon the fleeting life of man is past!
So soon his beauty falls unto decay!

As ships at sea, or posts upon the road,
Shafts from the bow, or cowards from their foe,
Or smoke before the wind, or as a flood -
So swiftly hence we short-lif'd mortals go.

Life breaks, like ice - or like an arrow flies,
Or melts like wax, or like a post it hastes,
Falls like a leaf, or like a flowret dies,
Scuds like a mist, or like a taper wastes.

We all shall, like a fleeting shadow, pass,
We all shall melt away, like thawing snow,
We all shall wither, like the new-mown grass,
We all, like froth, shall into vapour go.

No trace of us shall any more be seen,
Than of the bark, that thro' the billows drives,
Or of the snake, that glides along the green,
Or of the shaft, the yielding air that rives.

O let us then, this very day, or night,
Prepare to move from hence without delay,
And wean ourselves from ev'ry vain delight ;
Since long we cannot here expect to stay!

We, here, reside in tenements of clay :
A little storm will make our houses fall:
Let us then watch lest death our souls shou'd slay,
Or, whilst we sleep, throw down the mud-built wall!

As fish are kill'd by the keen fisher's stroke,
As pheasants by the fowler are fetch'd down,
As tender flowers by the wind are broke,
As verdant meadows by the sithe are mown;

So man unweetingly receives death's stroke,
So is he tumbled by that tyrant down,
So are his strength and stay to pieces broke,
So are his hopes, like verdant meadows, mown.

As erst the deluge pour'd down from on high,
As fire on Sodom fell, like sudden rains,
As lightning, or as meteors from the sky,
Or as a woman seiz'd with child-birth pains:

So rapidly, and with so swift a course,
So suddenly, so full of woe and dread,
So terribly, and with so fierce a force,
Will death pursue, and in our footsteps tread.

Frail is our flesh, and little is our pow'r,
Weak is our strength, and wretched is our case;
The slightest shock, the sickness of an hour,
Can put an end to any of our race.

An old wife's distaff may knock Heroes down,
A single hair may suffocate a swain,
A crooked pin may choke the stoutest clown:
Alas! how easily may man be slain.

The weak, the mean, the Fool, whom all despise;
The poorest peasant, with a pebble-stone,
May slay the strong, may disconcert the wise,
May storm a fort, or strike a giant down.

What then is man, but vapour, smoke, or grass,
(Although the best and bravest of his kind)
Froth, or a flow'r, a piece of ice, or glass,
An earthen vessel, or a puff of wind?

The bold, the gay, the cunning, the belov'd,
Even our chief, our rock, our prop, our stay,
The strong, the wise, the leader most approv'd,
Have each by death's huge sithe been cut away.

As leaves are from the trees soon blown away,
Or as the shears divide the thick-pil'd fleece,
Or as the lilies of the field decay,
Or as the brittle glass is broke with ease:

So shall we all decay, so wither all,
So shall be broke the brittle life of man,
So shall we soon, without exception, fall,
So shall the shears of fate snip short our span.

We all shall, like the cabin of a herd,
Be mov'd, or, like a gorgeous robe, decay,
Or all be shatter'd, like a potter's sherd,
Or vanish, like a morning's mist, away.

We shall no longer than our fathers stay,
But must, like them, go to the dreary tomb:
Before the Judge we our account must lay,
And leave this scene, to make for others room.

We cannot here remain from age to age,
Our bus'ness in the mart of life to do;
But in our turn we all must quit the stage,
And, where a world has gone before us, go.

Where-e'er we be, Death follows with his bow,
And aims his shaft directly at the heart :
There's no man can escape the deadly blow,
Nor guard against the venom of his dart.

Through ev'ry company, on his pale horse,
He daily rides - though none his coming spy:
None ever can evade his matchless force,
To whate'er place, or country, they must fly.

Although Asahel erst was like the roe,
Though Saul in speed an eagle's flight surpast,
Though Jehu did in swiftness Saul out-go,
Yet neither cou'd from death escape at last.

Though Samson all the world in strength excell'd,
Yet Death the strongest in the world subdu'd:
We likewise to the potent shade must yield,
Although we were with Samson's strength endu'd.

The Macedonian, once so known to fame,
Where-e'er he march'd, did all the world subdue:
But Death that glorious conqueror o'ercame,
And, after all his bloody slaughters, slew.

Death slew the Victors of the East and West,
Death Galen, that well-noted Leach! destroy'd,
Death slew Saint Luke, of Doctors far the best :
If Death slew them; who then can death avoid?

As fierce war-horses tread beneath their feet
(Whate'er their rank) the dying and the dead:
So unrelenting Death does, on the great,
As well as on the poorest peasant, tread.

Death, murder'd Abel - innocent in vain!
Death, Aaron seiz'd, for piety renown'd!
By Death, both Cain and cursed Ham, were slain:
Death never yet, to spare a man, was found.

Pharaoh, the king, and Eli, though a priest,
Isaiah, though of the prophetic train,
Noah, that ancient Patriarch, and the rest
Who liv'd of old, have all by Death been slain.

As cruel Herod ne'er was known to spare,
Or big, or little, or whate'er degree:
So Death, I ween, (whate'er their ages are)
Gives no reprieve - relentless quite as he.

Though Death shou'd waggon-loads of treasure have,
The kingdoms of the earth, and all their pelf;
Yet, for a single hour, he'll no man save,
Though one shou'd bribe him with the world itself.

None their desire from him shall e'er obtain,
Whate'er entreaties they may chance to use:
No more than Pilate cou'd the favour gain,
To save our Saviour, from the harden'd Jews.

Death, when he comes, will not a single hour
Of respite give, that we a watch may keep,
Nor any notice of his coming - more
Than the dumb dog before he kills a sheep:

But unawares with soft and silent tread,
He, like a thief, will to our houses creep,
E'en whilst we slumber, free from any dread;
So stole his foes on Samson in his sleep.

Shou'd we provisions for our journey lack,
Oil for our lamps, or requisite array;
Pale death will not permit us to go back,
Nor, if we loiter, for our coming stay:

But as the Babylonian king of old
Shadrach, into the fi'ry furnace, cast ;
So Death will all (on whom he can lay hold)
Imprison, in his clay-built dungeon, fast.

To rob some miser of his hoarded wealth,
As in the dead of night the burglar creeps:
So Death, to man's destruction, comes by stealth,
And unawares attacks him, whilst he sleeps.

As fishers strike the salmon with their spear,
Whilst in the limpid pool he rests unscar'd:
So Death assaults us, when most free from fear,
And when, for his reception, least prepar'd.

As the poor pigeon knows not when, or where,
The sportman's shot shall her of life deprive;
None can the manner, time, or place declare,
How, when, or where, the archer will arrive.

We come into the world, one way alone,
And always, at our entrance to it, weep;
But, by a thousand ways, men hence have gone,
And no account we, of their going, keep.

Death came to Abel, as he drove his sheep
To some sequest'red pasture, there to feed:
Whilst therefore thou thy flocks and herds dost keep,
Do thou of Death's unerring dart take heed.

No place so safe, so private, can be found,
Where Death will not his gastly visage show,
His dart still meditates the secret wound:
O, let us then be ready for the blow!

As she a journey took, upon the road,
Death did sweet-temper'd Rachel rudely greet :
Beware, I warn thee, whilst thou art abroad,
Lest thou shou'dst with the rambling Spectre meet!

When all Job's children were together met,
Death came amongst them to the genial feast :
Thou hast no certainty, but at some treat,
Death will appear, an uninvited guest!

The blust'ring Holofernes di'd asleep,
As on his bed, o'ercome with wine, he lay:
Do thou, if wise, from all excesses keep,
Lest death shou'd thee thyself, in liquor, slay.

Belshazzar, though of many realms possest,
Was kill'd, when drunk, with all his reeling train:
Do thou take care lest at some jovial feast,
Thou shalt thyself, amidst thy cups, be slain!

A mortal stroke Death unto Herod gave,
As on his judgement-seat he proudly sate:
Monarchs shou'd think of death and of the grave,
Even when seated on their thrones in state!

As in his chariot he triumphant rode,
Death shot a deadly shaft through Ahab's heart :
Shou'dst thou e'er in thy coach be whirl'd abroad,
Beware therein of Death's envenom'd dart!

Death, like a murderer, on Eglon prest,
As quite alone he in his parlour sate:
Do thou when in thy chamber gone to rest,
Of his fell dart beware - 'tis tipp'd with fate,

When Dives, in his silks, a figure made,
And cocker'd up himself with costly fare,
Death came and slew him, for his proud parade:
Fopplings and Epicures, of death beware.

When the rich Fool had built his barns anew,
And grain therein for many a season stor'd,
Death came, and all his fansy'd schemes o'erthrew,
Ere he had tasted of the treasur'd hoard:

Do thou, O Churl! who hast for many a year
Heap'd riches up, of Death's attacks beware,
Lest unexpected he shou'd seize thee, ere
Thou hast enjoy'd thereof the smallest share.

The sons of Aaron erst were both struck dead,
As they their off'rings on the altar laid:
Each priest shou'd death, e'en at the altar, dread,
And of his sudden coming be afraid.

Whilst on his knees Sennacherib did pray,
E'en in the temple - Death pursu'd him there,
And in the temple did the monarch slay:
Death, e'en in church, and whilst at prayers, fear.

Death, unto Zimri, gave a ghastly wound,
As, with the harlot Cosbi, he transgrest ;
Do thou take heed, lest thou by Death art found,
As thou some strumpet claspest to thy breast.

Light thou thy lamp, the wedding-garment wear,
And ev'ry proper ornament put on,
For God's inspection thy account prepare,
Ere thou art call'd before his aweful throne.

Be ready then to-day, or e'en to-night,
(Thy lamp well fill'd, and thou in trim array)
To come into thy glorious Judge's sight :
To-morrow, possibly, may be the day!

Not Paul, nor Peter, no created pow'r,
Not any man on earth, or fiend below,
Can for a certainty declare the hour,
Nor our approaching dissolution know.

Whether by day or night - by sea or land,
In sickness or in health - or great or small,
In town, or country - let us ready stand:
We can't tell when, or where, Death's stroke will fall.

Do all your work, whilst yet the day does last,
Gather your manna with the rising sun,
Accept of grace, ere yet the time is past,
Lay in fresh store, before your stock is done.

Ere yet the race is lost, ere ev'ning late,
Ere the tree's fell'd, ere in the slough thou'rt fast,
Ere to the hill thou'st fled, or shut's the gate,
Ere the trump sounds, and ere thy doom is past -

Run swift the errands of thy God to do,
Bear fruit abundantly, and of the best,
Unto the nuptial feast make hast to go,
And gain, ere thou departest, thy request.