1 Bless'd with the joy of innocence Adam, our father, stood, Till he debas'd his soul to sense, And ate th' unlawful food.
2 Now we are born a sensual race, To sinful joys inclin'd; Reason has lost its native place, And flesh enslaves the mind.
3 While flesh and sense and passion reigns, Sin is the sweetest good: We fancy music in our chains, And so forget the load.
4 Great God, renew our ruin'd frame, Our broken powers restore, Inspire us with a heavenly flame, And flesh shall reign no more.
5 Eternal Spirit, write thy law Upon our inward parts, And let the second Adam draw His image on our hearts.