Tomorrow, Lord, is Thine
Lodged in Thy sovereign hand;
And if its sun arise and shine,
It shines by Thy command.

The present moment flies,
And bears our life away;
O make Thy servants truly wise,
That they may live today.

Since on this wingèd hour
Eternity is hung,
Waken, by Thine almighty power,
The agèd and the young.

One thing demands our care,
O be it still pursued;
Lest, slighted once, the season fair
Should never be renewed.

To Jesus may we fly
Swift as the morning light,
Lest life’s young golden beam should die
In sudden, endless night.