Holland (Timothy Swan)

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• (Posted 2016-12-30)  CPDL #42450:      MusicXML

Editor: Barry Johnston (submitted 2016-12-30).   Score information: Letter, 1 page, 60 kB   Copyright: Public Domain

Edition notes: Oval note edition. Two more stanzas included, selected from Steele's paraphrase.

• (Posted 2016-12-30)  CPDL #42449:   

Editor: Barry Johnston (submitted 2016-12-30).   Score information: 7 x 10 inches (landscape), 1 page, 66 kB   Copyright: Public Domain

Edition notes: Note shapes added (4-shape). Two more stanzas included, selected from Steele's paraphrase.

General Information

Title: Holland
First Line: Uncertain life, how soon it flies
Composer: Timothy Swan
Lyricist: Anne Steele

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB

Genre: Sacred   Meter: 88. 88 (L.M.)

Language: English
Instruments: A cappella

{{Published}} is obsolete (code commented out), replaced with {{Pub}} for works and {{PubDatePlace}} for publications.

Description: First published in Swan's The New England Harmony, 1801, p. 28. Words by Anne Steele, 1760, paraphrase of Psalm 90, in seventeen stanzas. Swan used the sixth stanza of Steele's paraphrase in his composition.

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Original text and translations

English text 1. Lord, thou hast been thy children's God, All-powerful, wise, and good, and just, In every age their safe abode, Their hope, their refuge, and their trust. 2. Before thy word gave nature birth, Or spread the starry heavens abroad, Or formed the varied face of earth, From everlasting thou art God. 3. Destruction waits thy awful word, While mortal hope expiring mourns; Obedient nature owns her Lord, And dying man to dust returns, 4. Great Father of eternity, How short are ages in thy sight! A thousand years, how swift they fly, Like one short, silent watch of night! 5. Thy anger, like a swelling flood, Comes o'er the world with dreadful sway; The tempest speaks the offended God, And sweeps the guilty race away.

6. Uncertain life, how soon it flies! Dream of an hour, how short our bloom! Like spring's gay verdure now we rise, Cut down ere night to fill the tomb. 7. Consumed by thy vindictive frown, Our blessings and our lives decay; Our spirits sink despairing down, And every comfort dies away. 8. Full in thy view our crimes appear, Thy eye beholds each secret fault, And marks, in holiness severe, The sins of every inmost thought. 9. Our days, alas, how short their bound! Though slow and sad they seem to run, Revolving years roll swiftly round, A mournful tale, but quickly done. 10. Perhaps to threescore years and ten Protracted; or if longer still, Ah, what can more, but lengthened pain, The laft fad tedious period fill?

11. What mortal thought can comprehend The awful glories of thy throne? Not all the terrors fear can lend, Can make thy dreadful vengeance known. 12. Teach us to count our shortening days, And with true diligence apply Our hearts to wisdom's sacred ways, That we may learn to live and die. 13. O may thy favor, Lord, return, Nor thy bright presence long delay; Nor let thy servants vainly mourn, And weep their wretched lives away. 14. Soon let thy mercy cheer our hearts, And tune our grateful songs of praise; And let the joy thy smile imparts, Enliven all our future days. 15. O make our sacred pleasures rife, In sweet proportion to our pains, Till even the sad remembrance dies, Nor one uneasy thought complains.

16. Let thy almighty work appear. With power and evidence divine; And may the bliss thy servants share, Continued to their children shine. 17. Thy glorious image fair impressed, Let all our hearts and lives declare; Beneath thy kind protection blest, May all our labors own thy care.