Verse 1
To think more highly than you ought
Of your own gifts or grace,
Is it a crime, a real fault,
Or perfect harmlesness?
“Tis nature’s innocent mistake,
“Which God will ne’er reprove,
“The chief of saints yourself to make,
“And perfected in love.
Verse 2
“Yourself or good, or perfect call
“There’s no offence in this:”
Enthusiasts count the error small,
You only think amiss:
Call yourselves wholly sanctified,
No evil still they see,
No sin in what begins with pride,
And ends in blasphemy.