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.