Shall the Vile Race of Flesh and Blood

Verse 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?

Verse 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.

Verse 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.

Verse 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.

Verse 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.