Verse 1
O my heart, what must I do!
Shall the self-admiring fiend
Still my helplesness pursue?
Shall his malice never end?
Still the stubborn sin remains,
Still the thorn is in my side,
Still I groan to feel my chains,
Sorely buffetted by pride.

Verse 2
Vanity, the serpent-seed
Poisoning all my good I find;
Stealing on with silent tread
Vanity lurks close behind.
As the substance by the shade,
Grace I find by pride pursued;
Grace is pride’s occasion made,
Evil ever cleaves to good.

Verse 3
Pleas’d in borrow’d plumes to shine,
Nature arrogates a share,
Mixes in the work divine,
Bold the Godhead’s form to wear;
Proudly in her beauty trusts,
Heavenly charms as hers displays,
Falsely, blasphemously boasts,
Varnish’d, deck’d, and hid by grace.

Verse 4
When the boasted grace is gone,
Humbled in the dust I lie,
Poor, forsaken, and alone,
From the deep on God I cry.
Seeing there my loss of God,
Proud I am my loss to see,
Proud to find that I am proud,
Proud of my humility.

Verse 5
O the strength of inbred sin!
Who can vanity subdue?
From a creature all unclean
Who can bring a creature new?
Jesu, Lord, all power is thine,
Nothing is too hard for thee,
Greater than this heart of mine,
Surely thou canst humble me.

Verse 6
O begin; the way prepare:
Pride, and unbelief confound:
Far away my fig-leaves tear,
Throughly search my spirit’s wound:
Cast me down, and keep me poor,
All my weak supports remove,
Lay the deep foundation sure,
Humble me by faith and love.

Verse 7
Take my broken reeds away,
Every vain fallacious rest,
All on which my soul I stay,
All that keeps me from thy breast:
Strip me, empty me of all;
Joyless, chearless would I be,
So I might on Jesus fall,
Fall, and lose myself in thee.