The Days Of Our Age

     F                     C
The days of our age are threescore years and ten,
      Dm                               C
And though men be so strong that they come,
    Bb   C    F         Am                  Dm
To fourscore years, yet is their strength then,
     A                     Bb   C      Am   Bb
But labour and sorrow, so soon passeth it away,
    Bb  C   D   F
And we are gone,

F                  C
And as for me, my feet are almost gone,
     Dm           Bb         C
My treadings are well nigh slipped,
     Bb                           F
But let not the waterflood drown me,
 Am      Dm      E              Am     C        F   G
Neither let the deep swallow me up, (swallow me up)

    C                              G
So going through the Vale of Misery,
                         Dm
I shall use it for a well,
                                G
Till the pools are filled with water,
      Eb                Bb
For thou hast made the North and the South,
 Cm                       D            G
Tabor and Hermon shall rejoice in thy name.