Verse 1
To the world, and Satan sold,
Sinner, what is Christ to thee?
Pleasure is thy God, or gold;
Bondslave of iniquity,
Panting for the praise of man,
Canst thou feel an heavier chain?
Verse 2
Didst Thou ever yet intend
God in all thy ways to please?
No; the creature is thy end:
Dost thou not the charge confess?
Naked in its Maker’s sight,
Ask thy heart, if it be right?
Verse 3
No; thy guilty heart must own,
Far from God, and foul as hell:
Feel it now, and deeply groan
All thy filthiness to feel;
Struggle in th’ infernal snare,
Sink at last in self-despair.
Verse 4
Then behold the heavenly Lamb,
Pouring out his blood divine,
On the brink of Tophet claim
Christ the sinners Friend for thine,
Find with all his saints thy part,
Find thy Saviour in thy heart.