Broad is the road that leads to death,
And thousands walk together there;
But wisdom shows a narrow path
With here and there a traveler.
'Deny thyself and take thy cross'
Is our Redeemer's great command,
Nature must count her gold as dross
If she would gain this heav'nly land.
The fearful soul that tires and faints,
And walks the ways of God no more,
Is but esteemed almost a saint,
And makes his own destruction sure.
Lord, let not all my hopes be vain;
Create my heart entirely new,
Which hypocrites could not attain,
Which false apostates never knew.'
