LV. The Frailty of human Nature, and GOD'S gracious Regard to it.

LORD, we adore thy wond'rous Name,
And make that Name our Trust,
Which rais'd at first this curious Frame,
From mean, and lifeless Dust.

By Dust supported, still it stands,
Wrought up to various Forms,
Prepar'd by thy creating Hands
To nourish mortal Worms.

A while these frail Machines endure,
The Fabrick of a Day;
Then know their vital Pow'rs no more,
But moulder back to Clay.

Yet, LORD, whate'er is felt or fear'd,
This Thought is our Repose,
That he, by whom this Frame was rear'd,
Its various Weakness knows.

Thou view'st us with a pitying Eye,
While strugling with our Load;
In Pains and Dangers thou art nigh,
Our Father, and our GOD.

Gently supported by thy Love,
We tend to Realms of Peace;
Where ev'ry Pain shall far remove,
And ev'ry Frailty cease.