Verse 1
Tho’ envy foul its poison shed,
To blast the venerable dead,
With base reproach to load,
She did not lose her pious pains;
Her judgment with her Lord remains,
Her work is with her God.

Verse 2
She never left her former love,
Her zeal, or boldness to reprove
Triumphant wickedness:
Since first she knew the crucified,
She never cast her shield aside,
Or forfeited her peace.

Verse 3
Constant, unwarp’d from first to last,
She kept the faith, and held it fast,
From sin and error free,
Contending for the faith alone,
The name inscrib’d in the white stone,
The life of piety.

Verse 4
While others spent their strength for nought,
For trifles she no longer fought,
For human rules or rites:
Her soul the Shibboleths disdain’d,
By rigid novices maintain’d,
And smooth-tongued hypocrites.

Verse 5
With ease her quick-discerning eyes
Look’d thro’ the soft and thin disguise,
The meek and humble veil:
Beneath the superficial grace,
She knew the lurking fiend to trace,
The rage and pride of hell.

Verse 6
Yet neither earth nor hell could move
Her firm unconquerable love
To Jesus and his flock:
Her faith did all assaults indure,
And stood like its foundation sure
Establish’d on a rock.

Verse 7
She lov’d, but lean’d no more on man,
A broken reed, an helper vain;
People and ministers
Men of like passions she beheld,
Their faults and weaknesses conceal’d,
And help’d them by her prayers.

Verse 8
Their Master she rever’d in them,
With grateful love, and high esteem,
Rejoic’d their work to own;
But only Christ her Lord allow’d,
And with entire devotion bow’d
To Jesus’ name alone.