"In the midst of life we are in death; of whom then may we seek succour but of Thee, O Lord?"
![I](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3d/Poems_Eckley_I.jpg/41px-Poems_Eckley_I.jpg)
Of whom then may we seek
For succour, but of Thee, O Lord,
To whom else can we speak?
When Life seems fair as summer's morn,
When health and joy are ours,
O let us then remember, Lord,
Will come Life's darker hours.
When health and joy are ours,
O let us then remember, Lord,
Will come Life's darker hours.
For in the warmth of day we see
The flowers are fresh and fair,
But mark how frail, and O how sure
Will fall the cold death there.
The flowers are fresh and fair,
But mark how frail, and O how sure
Will fall the cold death there.
Nor summer's sun, nor evening dew,
Nor human band can stay
The frosty wind of death and blight,
That steals their life away.
Nor human band can stay
The frosty wind of death and blight,
That steals their life away.