Verse 1
The wrath of frantic man
Is impotent and vain,
Serves for no religious use,
Works no real righteousness;
Evil cannot good produce,
Cannot cause th’effects of grace.
Verse 2
Then let me calmly flee,
Meek Lamb of God, to Thee:
From the rage of inbred pride
Thou my only refuge art;
Save me shelter’d in thy side
In the centre of thy heart.
Verse 3
There, there in patient peace
Let me my soul possess,
Hid from nature’s furious zeal,
Buried in a sea of blood,
Fill’d with love unspeakable
Arm’d with all the mind of God.