My friend, my soul is deeply grieved
      To see the state you’re in:
What benefit have you received
      For holding on to sin?

What fruit have you to justify
      The minding earthly things?
It’s vanity you can’t deny;
      You Know what pain it brings.

Such folly! why do you allow
      This imbecility—
To take a moment’s pleasure now,
      And Sell eternity?

You lay your treasure up on earth
      Where moths and rust destroy,
And won’t receive the second birth,
      And spurn eternal joy.

You hold a form of godliness,
      But Why I cannot tell!
The pow’r thereof you care for less
      Than all the lies of hell.

You glory in your belly-god;
      You glory in your shame.
Your glory is an empty fraud
      That death and hell will claim.

Be not deceived, for you will reap
      The fruit of what you sow.
The end that waits the ways you keep
      Is everlasting woe.