Verse 1
But did the great apostle fear
He should not to the end endure,
Should not hold out, and persevere,
And make his own election sure?
Could Paul believe it possible
When all his toils and griefs were past,
Himself should of salvation fail,
And die a reprobate at last?

Verse 2
Who then art thou that dar’st reject
The sacred terms, the humbling awe,
As absolutely sav’d, elect,
And free from an abolish’d law?
Dost thou no self-denial need,
No watch, or abstinence severe,
In one short moment perfected,
An angel, an immortal here!

Verse 3
Saviour, the fond delusion chide
Of novices untaught by thee,
Abase their self-exalting pride,
And give them eyes themselves to see,
Who now as not a whit behind,
As far beyond, th’ apostle soar,
And saints of a superior kind
Can fear, and sin—and die no more.