English poem
Psalm CIII. Third Part. C. M. God's tender regard to human weakness
by Anonymous
Lord, we thy wond'rous power proclaim, And make that power our trust; Which rais'd at first this curious frame, From mean and lifeless dust.
By dust supported still it stands, Prepar'd in various forms; And wro't by thy creating hands, To nourish mortal worms.
A while these frail machines endure; The fabric of a day! Then lose their animating power; And moulder back to clay.
Yet frail and feeble as we are This tho't is our repose; That he who first our frame did rear, Its various weakness knows.
He views us with a pitying eye, While struggling with our load; In pains and dangers he is nigh, Our father and our God.
Gently supported by his love, We tend to realms of peace; Where every pain shall far remove, And every frailty cease,