1YE simple souls that stray
Far from the path of peace,
(That lonely, unfrequented way,
To life and happiness:)
Why will ye folly love,
And throng the downward road,
And hate the wisdom from above,
And mock the sons of God?
2Madness and misery
Ye count our life beneath;
And nothing great, or good can see,
Or glorious in our death:
As only born to grieve,
Beneath your feet we lie;
And utterly contemned we live,
And unlamented die.
3So wretched and obscure,
The men whom ye despise,
So foolish, impotent and poor,
Above your score we rise:
We, thro' the Holy Ghost,
Can witness better things:
For he, whose blood is all our boast,
Hath made us priests and kings.
4Riches unsearchable,
In Jesu's love we know;
And pleasures springing from the well
Of life, our souls o'erflow:
The spirit we receive,
Of wisdom, grace and power;
And always sorrowful we live,
Rejoicing evermore.
5Angels our servants are,
And keep in all our ways,
And in their watchful hands they bear
The sacred sons of grace;
Unto that heavenly bliss,
They all our steps attend,
And God himself our Father is,
And Jesus is our friend.
6In him we walk in white;
We in his image shine:
Our robes are robes of glorious light,
Our righteousness divine:
On all the kings of earth
With pity we look down;
And claim, in virture of our birth,
A never-fading crown.