XLIX. Shall the vile Race of Flesh and Blood

1 Shall the vile Race of Flesh and Blood
Contend with their Creator, God?
Shall mortal Worms presume to be
More holy, wise, or just than He?
2 Behold, He puts his Trust in none
Of all the Spirits round his Throne;
Their Natures, when compar'd with his,
Are neither holy, just, nor wise.

3 But how much meaner Things are they
Who spring from Dust, and dwell in Clay?
Touch'd by the Finger of thy Wrath,
We faint and vanish like the Moth.
4 From Night to Day, from Day to Night,
We die by Thousands in thy Sight;
Bury'd in Dust whole Nations lie
Like a forgotten Vanity.

5 Almighty Power, to Thee we bow;
How frail are we! how glorious Thou!
No more the Sons of Earth shall dare
With an eternal God compare.

Text Information
First Line: Shall the vile Race of Flesh and Blood
Language: English
Publication Date: 1760
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