39 (2)Psalm 39 Version 2SM
    MY end, Lord, make me know,
   My days how soon they fail;
And to my thoughtful spirit show
    How weak I am and frail.
2      To Thine eternal thought
    My days are but a span,
To Thee my years appear as nought;
    A breath—at best—is man.
3      O Lord, regard my fears,
    And answer my request,
Turn not in silence from my tears,
    But give the mourner rest.
4      I am a stranger here,
    Dependent on Thy grace,
A pilgrim as my fathers were,
    With no abiding place.
5      O spare me and forgive,
    Ere this short life is past,
That I may serve Thee here, and live
    With Thee in Heaven at last.
The Psalter, 1912‡