The Year Is Swiftly Waning

The year is swiftly waning,
The summer days are past;
And life, brief life, is speeding;
The end is nearing fast.

The ever changing seasons
In silence come and go;
But Thou, eternal Father,
No time or change canst know.

O, pour Thy grace upon us,
That we may worthier be,
Each year that passes o’er us,
To dwell in heaven with Thee.

Behold the bending orchards
With bounteous fruit are crowned;
Lord, in our hearts more richly
Let heavenly fruits abound.

O, by each mercy sent us,
And by each grief and pain,
By blessings like the sunshine,
And sorrows like the rain.

Our barren hearts make fruitful
With every goodly grace,
That we Thy Name may hallow,
And see at last Thy face.

Author: Christopher Wordsworth

Year: 1863

Christopher Wordsworth (1807–1885), nephew of William Wordsworth, was a prolific hymn-writer. This text first appeared in his Holy Year (1863). No widely recognized alternate attributions.