The Vanity of Man as Mortal Teach me the measure of my days,Thou Maker of my frame;I would survey life’s narrow space,And learn how frail I am. A span is all that we can boast,An inch or two of time;Man is but vanity and dustIn all his flower and prime. See the vain race of mortals moveLike … Continue reading The Vanity of Man as Mortal – Isaac Watts →