Nor conscious virtue calmed your breast.
O, come, young soldiers, count the cost,
And say, what pleasures have you lost?
Or what misfortune does it bring,
To have Jehovah for your king?
Shall sin entice you back again,
And bind you with its iron chain?
Has vice to you such lovely charms,
That you must die within its arms?
Is folly’s way the way of peace,