1 Broad is the road that leads to death,
And thousands walk together there;
But wisdom shews a narrow'r path,
With here and there a traveller.
2 Deny thyself, and take thy cross,
Is the Redeemer's great command!
Nature must count her gold but dross,
If she would gain this heavenly land.
3 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.
4 Lord, let not all my hopes be vain,
Create my heart entirely new;
Which hypocrites could ne'er attain,
Which false apostates never knew.
|First Line:||Broad is the road that leads to death|
|Title:||The almost Christian|