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448t Suffield


Teach me the measure of my days,
Thou Maker of my frame;
I would survey life's narrow space,
And learn how frail I am.

A span is all that we can boast;
How short the fleeting time!
Man is but vanity and dust,
In all his flow'r and prime.

What can I wish, or wait for then,
From creatures - earth and dust?
They make our expectations vain,
And disappoint our trust.

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