Author:		Albert Midlane, 1825-1909
Musician:		William L. Viner, 1790-1867

Passing onward, quickly passing,
But I ask thee, "Whither bound?
Is it to the many mansions
Where eternal rest is found?
Passing onward, passing onward,
Tell me, sinner, whither bound?"

Passing onward, quickly passing;
Naught the wheels of time can stay;
Sweet the tho't that some are going
To the realms of perfect day,
Passing onward, passing onward,
Christ their leader, Christ their way.

Passing onward, quickly passing,
Many on the downward road;
Careless of their souls immortal,
Heeding not the call of God,
Passing onward, passing onward,
Trample on the Saviour's blood.

Passing onward, quickly passing;
Time its course will quickly run;
Still we hear the fond entreaty
Of the ever gracious One:
"Come and and welcome, come and welcome;
'Tis by Me that life is won."