1 Strait is the way, the door is strait That leads to joys on high; 'Tis but a few that find the gate, While crowds mistake and die.
2 Beloved self must be deny'd, The mind and will renew'd: Passion suppress'd, and patience try'd, And vain desires subdu'd.
3 [Flesh is a dangerous foe to grace, Where it prevails and rules; Flesh must be humbled, pride abas'd, Lest they destroy our souls.
4 The love of gold be banish'd hence, (That vile idolatry); And every member, every sense In sweet subjection lie.]
5 The tongue, that most unruly power, Requires a strong restraint; We must be watchful every hour, And pray, but never faint.
6 Lord, can a feeble helpless worm Fulfil a task so hard? Thy grace must all my work perform, And give the free reward.