Almighty Maker Of My Frame

Almighty Maker of my frame!

Teach me the measure of my days,

Teach me to know how frail I am,

And spend the remnant in Thy praise.

My days are shorter than a span,

A little point my life appears;

How frail at best is dying man!

How vain are all his hopes and fears!

Vain his ambition, noise and show;

Vain are the cares which rack his mind;

He heaps up treasures mixed with woe,

And dies and leaves them all behind.

O be a nobler portion mine!

My God, I bow before Thy throne;

Earth's fleeting treasures I resign,

And fix my hope on Thee alone.