1 Backward with humble Shame we look
On our Original,
How is our Nature dash'd 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 Conceiv'd 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 degen'rate 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 Pow'r from Things unclean
Can pure Productions bring?
Who can command a vital Stream
From an infected Spring?]

7 Yet, mighty God, thy wond'rous 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;
Hosanna to that Sov'reign Pow'r
That new-creates our Dust,