Fools in their heart be­lieve and say
That all re­li­gion’s vain;
There is no God that reigns on high,
Or minds th’af­fairs of men.

From thoughts so dread­ful and pro­fane,
Corrupt dis­course pro­ceeds;
And in their im­pi­ous hands are found
Abominable deeds.

The Lord from His ce­les­ti­al throne
Looked down on things be­low,
To find the man that sought His grace,
Or did His jus­tice know.

By na­ture all are gone as­tray,
Their prac­tice all the same;
There’s none that fears his ma­ker’s hand;
There’s none that loves His name.

Their tongues are used to speak de­ceit,
Their slan­ders ne­ver cease;
How swift to mis­chief are their feet,
Nor know the paths of peace!

Such seeds of sin (that bit­ter root)
In ev­ery heart are found;
Nor can they bear di­vin­er fruit
Till grace re­fine the ground.