Verse 1
We that are Christ’s, have crucified
The flesh, the rebel man within,
Passion, and appetite, and pride,
And all the brood of inbred sin;
The Adam old (the selfish love)
By faith we nail’d him to the tree,
From whence he never shall remove,
But bleed to death, O Lord, with thee.

Verse 2
In vain for a reprieve he cries,
And groans, and struggles to be freed,
In vain his subtlest art he tries,
And feigns himself already dead:
To make us boast the conflict o’er,
He seems to gasp his latest breath,
And stirs in novices no more,
And dies at once a sudden death.

Verse 3
But taught of God, we surely know,
The man of desperate wickedness
Shall weaker still and weaker grow,
And lingring die by slow degrees;
The Adam old, we dare believe,
Shall hang with Christ transfixt and fast,
A thousand mortal wounds receive,
’Till perfect grace inflict the last.