Children, to Your Creator, God

Children

to your cre­at­or

God

Your ear­ly hon­ors pay

While van­ity and youth­ful blood

Would tempt your thoughts as­tray.

The me­mo­ry of His migh­ty name

Demands your first re­gard;

Nor dare in­dulge a mean­er flame

’Till you have loved the Lord.

Be wise

and make His fa­vor sure

Before the mourn­ful days

When youth and mirth are known no more

And life and strength de­cays.

No more the bless­ings of a feast

Shall rel­ish on the tongue.

The hea­vy ear for­gets the taste

And plea­sure of a song.

Old age with all her dis­mal train

Invades your gold­en years

With sighs and groans

and rag­ing pain

And death that nev­er spares.

What will you do when light de­parts

And leaves your wi­ther­ing eyes

Without one beam to cheer your hearts

From the su­pe­ri­or skies?

How will you meet God’s frown­ing brow

Or stand be­fore His seat

While na­ture’s old sup­port­ers bow

Nor bear their tot­ter­ing weight?

Can you ex­pect your fee­ble arms

Shall make a strong de­fense

When death with ter­ri­ble alarms

Summons the pri­son­er hence?

The sil­ver bands of na­ture burst;

And let the build­ing fall;

The flesh goes down to mix with dust

Its vile orig­in­al.

Laden with guilt (a hea­vy load)

Uncleansed and un­for­giv’n

The soul re­turns t’an an­gry God

To be shut out from Heav’n.