1 Oft have I turn'd my eye within,
And brought to light some latent sin;
But pride, the vice I most detest,
Still lurks securely in my breast.

2 She hides my follies from mine eyes,
And lifts my virtues to the skies;
And, while the specious tale she tells,
Her own deformity conceals.

3 Rend, O my God! the veil away;
Bring forth the monster to the day;
Expose her hideous form to view,
And all her restless pow'r subdue.

4 So shall humility divine
Again possess this heart of mine;
And form a temple for my god,
Which he will make his lov'd abode.