Great God, and just! how can'st thou see,
Dear God, our misery,
And not in mercy set us free?
Poor, miserable man! how wert thou born,
Weak as the dewy jewels of the morn,
Wrapp'd up in tender dust,
Guarded with sins and lust,
Who, like court flatterers, wait
To serve themselves in thy unhappy fate!
Wealth is a snare, and poverty brings in
Inlets for theft, paving the way for sin;
Each perfum'd vanity doth gently breathe
Sin in thy soul, and whispers it to death.
Our faults like ulcerated sores do go
O'er the sound flesh and do corrupt that too.
Lord, we are sick, spotted with sin, 
Thick as a crusty leper's skin;
Like Naaman, bid us wash, yet let it be
In streams of blood that flow from thee.

Chorus
 Then will we sing,
 Touch'd by the heav'nly dove's bright wing
 Alleluias, psalms and praise
 To God the Lord of nights and days,
 Ever good and ever just,
 Ever high, whoever must
 Thus be sung, is still the same;
 Eternal praises crown his name.