He will, for rest, to covert run,

And meet the wolf he strove to shun:

Thus wretched I, through wanton will,

Ran blind and headlong on in ill.

’Twas thus from sin to sin I flew,

And thus I might have perished too;

But mercy dropped the likeness here,

And showed and saved me from my fear,

While o’er the darkness of my mind

The sacred Spirit purely shined,