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C. M.

By Nature all men are sinners.

Fools in their heart believe and say

"That all religion's vain;

There is no God that reigns on high,

Or minds th' affairs of men."

From thoughts so dreadful and profane,

Corrupt discourse proceeds;

And in their impious hands are found

Abominable deeds.

The Lord from his celestial throne

Looked down on things below,

To find the man that sought his grace,

Or did his justice know.

By nature all are gone astray,

Their practice all the same;

There's none that fears his Maker's hand;

There's none that loves his name.

Their tongues are used to speak deceit,

Their slanders never cease;

How swift to mischief are their feet,

Nor know the paths of peace!

Such seeds of sin (that bitter root)

In every heart are found;

Nor can they bear diviner fruit,

Till grace refine the ground.

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