SECTION I .

Man mortal and impure.

Shall mortal man, a tainted clod,
Boast righteousness divine;
Or think he can his maker, God,
In purity outshine?

Behold! no trust is put by him,
In yonder glorious race
Of bright immortal seraphim,
That stand before his face.

Of folly comp'rative can he
His purest angels blame,
Who, plung'd in his infinity,
Before him blush for shame?

And shall vain man, in impure state,
His innocence defend?
Will he with his Creator great
Presumptuously contend!

SECTION II .

Man short-lived and contemptible

Vile mortal man, a worthless wight,
Triumphs but for a day;
And but inhabits, for a night,
A house of mould'ring clay.

His strongest lodge, and vital fort,
Is founded in the dust,
Which, quickly falling, cuts him short,
And disappoints his trust.

For, but how soon a gnawing worm,
Or silly moth assails,
The rampart cannot stand the storm,
The feeble fabric fails.

The sap'd foundation every hour
Thus piece-meal feels decay;
And life ev'n in its blooming flow'r,
Does daily fade away.

So fast men perish out of sight,
Their pomp that shone before,
And once could wonder fond excite,
Can raise regard no more.

In vain no pow'r and wealth achiev'd,
For help at last they cry;
For without wisdom, as they liv'd,
They in their folly die.