Tomorrow,
Lord,
is
Thine
Lodged
in
Thy
sovereign
hand;
And
if
its
sun
arise
and
shine,
It
shines
by
Thy
command.
The
present
moment
flies,
And
bears
our
life
away;
O
make
Thy
servants
truly
wise,
That
they
may
live
today.
Since
on
this
wingèd
hour
Eternity
is
hung,
Waken,
by
Thine
almighty
power,
The
agèd
and
the
young.
One
thing
demands
our
care,
O be
it
still
pursued;
Lest,
slighted
once,
the
season
fair
Should
never
be
renewed.
To
Jesus
may
we
fly
Swift
as
the
morning
light,
Lest
life’s
young
golden
beam
should
die
In
sudden,
endless
night.
