900. C. M. The Same.

1 Mark how the swift-winged minutes fly,
And hours still hasten on!
How swift the circling months run round!
How soon the year is gone!

2 How is our debt of love increased
To that sustaining Power,
Who hath upheld our feeble frame,
And blest each rolling hour.

3 For all thy favors, O our God,
Thy goodness we adore;
Thou hast our cup with blessings filled,
And made that cup run o'er.

4 What shall befall in future life,
We would not, Lord, inquire:
To be prepared for all thy will.
Be this our chief desire.