Blest with the Joys of Innocence

Blest with the joys of in­no­cence

Adam our fa­ther stood

Till he de­based his soul to sense

And ate th’un­law­ful food.

Now we are born a sen­su­al race

To sin­ful joys in­clined;

Reason has lost its na­tive place

And flesh en­slaves the mind.

While flesh

and sense

and pas­sion reigns

Sin is the sweet­est good;

We fan­cy mu­sic in our chains

And so for­get the load.

Great God! re­new our rui­ned frame

Our brok­en pow­ers re­store

Inspire us with a heav’n­ly flame

And flesh shall reign no more.

Eternal Spir­it! write Thy law

Upon our in­ward parts

And let the se­cond Ad­am draw

His im­age on our hearts.