Fast falls as then the eventide
when Mary sang With me abide.
Who lives, who dies, it’s them, it’s us –
like grass we’re mowed, in God we trust.
We can’t avoid the fate of man
or join some fast escaping van
headed for eternal bliss.
We live on Earth, there’s that and this,
but not forever, sing while you can.
There is eternity, touch its great hand.
Stars spin and make, we plant and sow,
and when the summer’s past, we go.
We feel as sharply and as deep
as skies are high, seas low. We keep
the faith in love and life
in spite of striving, suffering, strife,
wars and disease, even when the cause
is our unending needs and flaws.
The larger us the whole devours,
the smaller us cares for what’s ours.
Are we still dear in the grand scheme?
If so, or not, we love and dream
and sing together in the face of death
and try for better with each breath.
When memories rise of old ones past
time’s changes circle by less fast.
Before the evening each day’s sprung.
Morning’s songs of praise are sung.
when Mary sang With me abide.
Who lives, who dies, it’s them, it’s us –
like grass we’re mowed, in God we trust.
We can’t avoid the fate of man
or join some fast escaping van
headed for eternal bliss.
We live on Earth, there’s that and this,
but not forever, sing while you can.
There is eternity, touch its great hand.
Stars spin and make, we plant and sow,
and when the summer’s past, we go.
We feel as sharply and as deep
as skies are high, seas low. We keep
the faith in love and life
in spite of striving, suffering, strife,
wars and disease, even when the cause
is our unending needs and flaws.
The larger us the whole devours,
the smaller us cares for what’s ours.
Are we still dear in the grand scheme?
If so, or not, we love and dream
and sing together in the face of death
and try for better with each breath.
When memories rise of old ones past
time’s changes circle by less fast.
Before the evening each day’s sprung.
Morning’s songs of praise are sung.