1 I'll praise Thee, from whose Hands I came,
A Work of such a curious Frame;
The Wonders Thou in me hast shewn,
My Soul with grateful Joy must own.

2 Thine Eyes my Substance did survey,
While yet a lifeless Mass it lay;
Thou saw'st the daily Growth it took,
Form'd by the Model of thy Book.

3 Thou know'st the Texture of my Heart,
My Reins, and every vital Partz;
Each single Thread in Nature's Loom,
By Thee was covered in the Womb.

4 Let me acknowledge too, O God,
That since this Maze of Life I trod,
Thy Thoughts of Love to me surmount
The Pow'r of Numbers to recount.

5 Far sooner could I reckon o'er
The Sands upon the Ocean's Shore:
Each Morn, revising what I've done,
I find th' Account but just begun.