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 the Redeemer’s great command;
Nature must count her gold but 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 nеw;
Which hypocrites could ne’er attain
And falsе apostates never knew.