1 Let others boast how strong they be,
Nor death nor danger fear;
While we'll confess, O Lord, to Thee,
What feeble things we are.

2 Fresh as the grass our bodies stand,
And flourish bright and gay;
A blasting wind sweeps o'er the land,
And fades the grass away.

3 Our life contains a thousand springs,
And dies if one be wrong;
Strange, that a harp of thousand strings
Should keep in tune so long.

4 But 'tis our God supports our frame,
The God that formed us first,
Salvation to the almighty Name
That reared us from the dust!

5 While we have breath, or life, or tongues,
Our Maker we'll adore.
His Spirit moves our heaving lungs,
Or they would breathe no more.