Human Frailty (Daniel Read): Difference between revisions

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*{{NewWork|2014-12-12}} {{CPDLno|33665}} [{{filepath:HumanFrailtyRead1785bpr.pdf}} {{pdf}}]  
*{{NewWork|2014-12-12}} {{CPDLno|33665}} [{{filepath:HumanFrailtyRead1785bpr.pdf}} {{pdf}}] [{{filepath:HumanFrailtyRead1785bpr.mid}} {{mid}}]  
{{Editor|Barry Johnston|2014-12-12}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|1|36}}{{Copy|Public Domain}}
{{Editor|Barry Johnston|2014-12-12}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|1|36}}{{Copy|Public Domain}}
:'''Edition notes:''' Oval note edition.
:'''Edition notes:''' Oval note edition.

Revision as of 07:26, 12 December 2014

Music files

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CPDL #33665:  Icon_pdf.gif Icon_snd.gif 
Editor: Barry Johnston (submitted 2014-12-12).   Score information: Letter, 1 page, 36 kB   Copyright: Public Domain
Edition notes: Oval note edition.
CPDL #33666:  Icon_pdf.gif 
Editor: Barry Johnston (submitted 2014-12-12).   Score information: Unknown, 1 page, 73 kB   Copyright: Public Domain
Edition notes: Note shapes added (4-shape).

General Information

Title: Human Frailty
First Line: Thee we adore, eternal name
Composer: Daniel Read
Lyricist: Isaac Watts

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB

Genre: SacredHymn   Meter: 86. 86 (C.M.)

Language: English
Instruments: A cappella

Published: 1785

Description: Published in The American Singing-Book, 1785, p. 30. Words by Isaac Watts, 1709, his Hymn 55 of Book 2.

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

Thee we adore, Eternal Name,
And humbly own to thee
How feeble is our mortal frame!
What dying worms are we!

Our wasting lives grow shorter still
As months and days increase;
And every beating pulse we tell
Leaves but the number less.

The year rolls round, and steals away
The breath that first it gave;
Whatever we do, wherever we be,
We're traveling to the grave.

Dangers stand thick through all the ground
To push us to the tomb,
And fierce diseases wait around,
To hurry mortals home.

Great God! on what a slender thread
Hang everlasting things!
Th' eternal states of all the dead
Upon life's feeble strings.

Infinite joy or endless woe
Attends on every breath,
And yet how unconcerned we go
Upon the brink of death!

Waken, O Lord! our drowsy sense,
To walk this dangerous road;
And if our souls be hurried hence,
May they be found with God.