What does a man have but you O Lord?
Can he depend on the way of the world or his own imagination?
No! for such things die away, but you remain forever.
I have money, you say, but soon it spreads wings like an eagle and flies away.
Yet my health, you may add, but time is cruel to the strong and the weak.
All things must die away, but Providence remains the same.
What does a man have but you O Lord: nothing but you.

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