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.