Forget thine anguish, Vexed heart, again. Why shouldst thou languish, With earthly pain? The husk shall slumber, Bedded in clay Silent and sombre, Oblivion's prey! But, Spirit immortal, Thou at Death's portal, Tremblest with fear. If he caress thee, Curse thee or bless thee, Thou must draw near, From him the worth of thy works to hear. Why full of terror, Compassed with error, Trouble thy heart, For thy mortal part? The soul flies home-- The corpse is dumb. Of all thou didst have, Follows naught to the grave. Thou fliest thy nest, Swift as a bird to thy place of rest. What avail grief and fasting, Where nothing is lasting? Pomp, domination, Become tribulation. In a health-giving draught, A death-dealing shaft. Wealth--an illusion, Power--a lie, Over all, dissolution Creeps silent and sly. Unto others remain The goods thou didst gain With infinite pain. Life is a vine-branch; A vintager, Death. He threatens and lowers More near with each breath. Then hasten, arise! Seek God, O my soul! For time quickly flies, Still far is the goal. Vain heart praying dumbly, Learn to prize humbly, The meanest of fare. Forget all thy sorrow, Behold, Death is there! Dove-like lamenting, Be full of repenting, Lift vision supernal To raptures eternal. On ev'ry occasion Seek lasting salvation. Pour thy heart out in weeping, While others are sleeping. Pray to Him when all's still, Performing his will. And so shall the angel of peace be thy warden, And guide thee at last to the heavenly garden. HYMN. Almighty! what is man? But flesh and blood. Like shadows flee his days, He marks not how they vanish from his gaze, Suddenly, he must die-- He droppeth, stunned, into nonentity. Almighty! what is man? A body frail and weak, Full of deceit and lies, Of vile hypocrisies. Now like a flower blowing, Now scorched by sunbeams glowing. And wilt thou of his trespasses inquire? How may he ever bear Thine anger just, thy vengeance dire? Punish him not, but spare, For he is void of power and strength! Almighty! what is man? By filthy lust possessed, Whirled in a round of lies, Fond frenzy swells his breast. The pure man sinks in mire and slime, The noble shrinketh not from crime, Wilt thou resent on him the charms of sin? Like fading grass, So shall he pass. Like chaff that blows Where the wind goes. Then spare him, be thou merciful, O King, Upon the dreaded day of reckoning!