by Jerry Senn
O God, our help in ages past
Our help for years to come,
Our shelter in the stormy blast,
And our eternal home.
A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an evening gone,
Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.
Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.
(Isaac Watts)