O GRACIOUS Lord, forgive us; we are all,
All of us, sinners vile; But these, who build
Greatness upon their brethren's miseries;
Who scorn to make Thy meek and patient life
The pattern of their doings; yet put on
A day-dress of religion; hypocrites!
Who faiths absurd exact with fiery zeal;
And strive to thrall the tongue to their decrees,
Not win the spirit to the bond of love: —
God of our fathers, keep us from the ways
Of these foul hirelings. Less Thy glory pure
Seek they to magnify, than that of men:
For basest ends the simple they perplex,
And with the guise of learning, check the hope
That rises in their hearts from virtuous deeds.
