1 Lord, what is man, poor feeble man, Born of the earth at first! His life a shadow, light and vain, Still hasting to the dust.
2 O what is feeble dying man Or any of his race, That God should make it his concern To visit him with grace!
3 That God who darts his lightnings down, Who shakes the worlds above, And mountains tremble at his frown, How wondrous is his love.