1 Backward with humble shame we look
On our original;
How is our nature dashed and broke
In our first father’s fall!

2 To all that’s good averse and blind,
But prone to all that’s ill;
What dreadful darkness veils our mind!
How obstinate our will!

3 Conceived in sin, O wretched state!
Before we draw our breath;
The first young pulse begins to beat
Iniquity and death.

4 How strong in our degenerate blood
The old corruption reigns,
And, mingling with the crooked flood,
Wanders through all our veins.

5 Wild and unwholesome as the root
Will all the branches be;
How can we hope for living fruit
From such a deadly tree?

6 What mortal power from things unclean
Can pure productions bring?
Who can command a vital stream
From an infected spring?

7 Yet, mighty God! Thy wondrous love
Can make our nature clean,
While Christ and grace prevail above
The tempter, death and sin.

8 The second Adam shall restore
The ruins of the first;
Hosannah to that sovereign power
That new-creates our dust!