Whatsoever thou takest in hand, remember the end, and thou shalt never do amiss. Sirach 7:36.
O! how many trifles and vanities would be avoided, if it were but always duly considered, that we could die even this very day.
O Lord! teach me the number of my days, and since I must and will be prepared and perfect against that decisive hour, suffer me not to desire, to speak, or to do, or so to leave any thing undone, that may be matter of grief at last. How long I may still have to live, I know not, and being sensible that I am not so heavenly minded yet, as I could wish, I beseech thee to fashion me according to thine own pleasure, and preserve me every hour prepared in thee, that death may not overtake me in an unexpected time.
Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound,
My ears attend the cry;
Ye living men, come view the ground
Where you must shortly lie.
Princes, this clay must be your bed,
In spite of all your towers;
The tall, the wise, the reverend head
Must lie as low as ours.
Great God! is this our certain doom!
And are we still secure?
Still walking downward to our tomb,
And yet prepare no more?
Grant us the power of quickening grace,
To fit our souls to fly!
Then, when we drop this dying flesh,
We’ll rise above the sky.