1 On man, in his own image made,
How much did God bestow;
The whole creation homage paid,
And own'd him, lord below!
2 But oh! by sin how quickly chang'd!
His peace and honor fled,
His heart from GOD and truth estrang'd,
His conscience fill'd with dread!
3 Now from his Maker's voice he fled,
Which was before his joy;
And thought to hide his guilty head,
From all all-seeing eye.
4 Compell'd to answer to his name,
With stubborness and pride
He cast on God himself the blame,
Nor once for mercy cry'd.
5 But grace, unask'd his heart subdu'd,
And all his guilt forgave;
By faith the promis'd seed he view'd,
And felt its pow'r to save.
|First Line:||On man, in his own image made|
|Title:||The Fall of man|
|Topic:||Fall of man, its effects lamented; Man: His fall|