O great God of man!
Pardon this ingrate soul of man.
That foresakes you in seeking for goods.
The mind encompassed by the world's.
His covetous eyes seek to lust
And the heavenly purpose, he lost.
His heart strayed from thy thought
Like a stream whose source is cut.
Daily awake with no praise of you,
But vanity and lust are both his woe.
For shadows, his strength espoused
and the nature, his sense disdained.
For the world is too much with him
That he adorns not the heavenly realm.
« return.