Third Degree

Days and moments quickly flying,
Blend the living with the dead;
Soon will you and I be lying
Each within his narrow bed.
Soon our souls to God Who gave them
Will have sped their rapid flight;
Able now by grace to save them,
Oh! that while we can we might.
As the tree falls, so must it lie;
As the man lives, so must he die;
As the man dies, so must he be
All through the days of eternity.

So mote it be.

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