3 Hast thou not promis’d to thy Son
And all his seed a heavenly crown? 
But flesh and sense indulge despair;
For ever blessed be the Lord,
That faith can read his holy word,
And find a resurrection there.

4 For ever blessed be the Lord,
Who gives his saints a long reward
For all their toil, reproach and pain;
Let all below and all above
Join to proclaim thy wondrous love,
And each repeat their loud Amen.

Psalm 90:1.  L. M.
Man mortal, and God eternal. 
A mournful song at a funeral.

1 Thro’ every age, eternal God, Thou art our rest, our safe abode; High was thy throne ere heaven was made, Or earth thy humble footstool laid.

2 Long hadst thou reign’d ere time began,
Or dust was fashion’d to a man;
And long thy kingdom shall endure
When earth and time shall be no more.

3 But man, weak man, is born to die, Made up of guilt and vanity; Thy dreadful sentence, Lord, was just, “Return, ye sinners, to your dust.”

4 [A thousand of our years amount
Scarce to a day in thine account;
Like yesterday’s departed light,
Or the last watch of ending night.]

Pause.

5 Death like an overflowing stream
Sweeps us away; our life’s a dream;
An empty tale; a morning flower
Cut down and wither’d in an hour.

6 [Our age to seventy years is set;
How short the term! how frail the state! 
And if to eighty we arrive,
We rather sigh and groan than live.

7 But O how oft thy wrath appears,
And cuts off our expected years! 
Thy wrath awakes our humble dread;
We fear the power that strikes us dead.]

8 Teach us, O Lord, how frail is man;
And kindly lengthen out our span,
Till a wise care of piety
Fit us to die, and dwell with thee.

Psalm 90:2. 1-5.  First Part.  C. M.
Man frail, and God eternal.

1 Our God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home.

2 Under the shadow of thy throne
Thy saints have dwelt secure;
Sufficient is thine arm alone,
And our defence is sure.

3 Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth receiv’d her frame,
From everlasting thou art God,
To endless years the same.

4 Thy word commands our flesh to dust,
“Return, ye sons of men:” 
All nations rose from earth at first,
And turn to earth again.

5 A thousand ages in thy sight
Arc like an evening gone;
Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.

6 [The busy tribes of flesh and blood,
With all their lives and cares,
Are carried downwards by thy flood,
And lost in following years.

7 Time like an ever-rolling stream
Bears all its Sons away;
They fly forgotten as a dream
Dies at the opening day.

8 Like flowery fields the nations stand
Pleas’d with the morning light;
The flowers beneath the mower’s hand
Lie withering ere ’tis night.]