OFTEN as death with solemn toll,

Only this frail and fleeting breath Preserves me from the jaws of death; Soon as it fails, at once I’m gone, And plunged into a world unknown.

Then, leaving all I love below, To God’s tribunal I must go, Must hear the Judge pronounce my fate, And fix my everlasting state.

Lord Jesus, help me now to flee, And seek my hope alone in Thee; Apply Thy blood, Thy Spirit give, Subdue my sin, and let me live.

Then, when of someone’s death I hear, If saved from guilt, I need not fear; Nor will the thought distressing be, ‘Next it may call, perhaps for me!’