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,