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1 Lord! we adore thy wondrous name;
And make that name our trust,
Which rais'd at first this curious frame
From mean and lifeless dust.
2 Awhile these frail machines endure,
The fabric of a day;
Then, know their vital pow'rs no more,
But moulder back to clay.
3 Yet, Lord! whate'er is felt or fear'd,
This thought is our repose,
That he, by whom our frame was rear'd,
Its various frailties knows.
4 Thou view'st us with a pitying eye,
While struggling with our load;
In pains and dangers thou art nigh,
Our Father, and our God.
5 Gently supported by thy love,
We tend to realms of peace;
Where ev'ry pain shall far remove,
And ev'ry weakness cease.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Lord! we adore thy wondrous name |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1814 |
Topic: | Death |