Numbers so big, they're hard to grasp,
The scale of their size, we can barely clasp.
From thousands to millions, to billions and more,
The magnitude boggles the mind, like never before.

A thousand photos, one by one,
Just over 16 minutes, they'd all be done.
Ten thousand faces, one by one, 
That's over 2 and a half hours, all said and done.

Big numbers, big numbers, so hard to comprehend.
A million, ten million, a billion round the bend.
The scale is so vast, it's hard to understand,
The sheer size of these numbers, so immense and so grand.

A hundred thousand, that's a sight to behold,
Over a day and a half, the story's been told.
A million faces, all looked at one by one,
That's 11 and a half days, the viewing's been done.

Ten million people, that's a lot to see,
Over a year and a quarter, the viewing would be.
A hundred million, almost more than believed,
That's over 11 and a half years, the time it would need.

A billion faces, one by one,
Over 31 and a half years, the viewing's been done.
The scale of these numbers is truly profound,
Comprehending their size, our minds can't quite sound.

Over 8 billion people in the world today,
To see them all one by one, it would take over 250 years, so they say.
The magnitude of these numbers is truly profound,
Comprehending their scale, our minds can't quite sound.

Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene?
How I so found it full of pleasing charms?
Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between:
Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renewing storms:
Is it departing pangs my soul alarms?
Or Death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode?
For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms;
I tremble to approach an angry God,
And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod.

Fain would I say, "Forgive my foul offence!"
Fain promise never more to disobey;
But, should my Author health again dispense,
Again I might desert fair virtue's way:
Again in folly's path might go astray;
Again exalt the brute and sink the man;
Then how should I for heavenly mercy pray,
Who act so counter heavenly mercy's plan?
Who sin so oft have mourn'd, yet to temptation ran?

O Thou, great Governor of all below!
If I may dare a lifted eye to Thee,
Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow,
Or still the tumult of the raging sea:
With that controlling pow'r assist ev'n me
Those headlong furious passions to confine;
For all unfit I feel my pow'rs to be,
To rule their torrent in th' allowed line;
O, aid me with Thy help, Omnipotence Divine!