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.