Verse 1
The least of Jesus’ little ones,
Let him offended be,
And lo, my soul indignant groans
Beneath the injury:
If worldlings, or enthusiasts turn
The lame out of the road,
I strait with just resentment burn
And bear the cause to God.

Verse 2
Now, O my God, the havock see
Which wild delusion makes,
Implunging blind credulity
In perilous mistakes;
Who boast their perfect holiness
They stumble the sincere,
And grieve the hearts that know thy grace
And pain the tingling ear.

Verse 3
Who of themselves too highly think
As wholly sanctified,
Till instantaneously they sink
Into the gulph of pride;
Who to the ladder’s topmost round
By one short step ascend,
Their sober-minded brethren wound,
And all thy church offend.

Verse 4
The dire contagion is begun,
The mad, fanatic sect,
If Thou permit them to go on,
Will all thy flock infect:
Come Jesus, stand thyself between
The living and the dead,
Rebuke the Luciferian sin
And let the plague be stay’d.

Verse 5
The rock of error and offence
By faith unfeign’d remove,
By deep, perpetual penitence,
By pure, impartial love;
By true, substantial holiness
Take all our pride away,
And then in thy unclouded face
We see the perfect day.