How Swift the Torrent Rolls

How swift the tor­rent rolls

That bears to us to the sea!

The tide

that bears our thought­less souls

To vast eter­ni­ty!

Our fa­thers

where are they

With all they called their own?

Their joys and griefs

and hopes and cares

And wealth and hon­or gone.

But joy or grief suc­ceeds

Beyond our mor­tal thought;

While the poor rem­nant of their dust

Lies in the grave for­got.

There

where the fa­thers lie

Must all the child­ren dwell;

Nor other her­itage pos­sess

But such a gloomy cell.

God of our fa­thers

hear

Thou ev­er­last­ing Friend!

While we

as on life’s ut­most verge

Our souls to Thee com­mend.

Of all the pi­ous dead

May we the foot­steps trace

Till with them in the land of light

We dwell be­fore Thy face.