1 Not all the outward forms on earth, Nor rites that God has given, Nor will of man, nor blood, nor birth, Can raise a soul to heaven.
2 The sovereign will of God alone Creates us heirs of grace; Born in the image of his Son, A new peculiar race.
3 The Spirit like some heavenly wind Blows on the sons of flesh, New models all the carnal mind, And forms the man afresh.
4 Our quicken'd souls awake, and rise From the long sleep of death; On heavenly things we fix our eyes, And praise employs our breath.