Sin’s Deceit

Sin, when view’d by Scripture light, Is a horrid, hateful sight; But when seen in Satan’s glass, Then it wears a pleasing face.

When the gospel-trumpet sounds, When I think how grace abounds, When I feel sweet peace within, Then I’d rather die than sin.

When the cross I view by faith, Sin is madness, poison, death: Tempt me not, ’tis all in vain, Sure I ne’er can yield again.

Satan for a while debarr’d, When he finds me off my guard, Puts his glass before my eyes, Quickly other thoughts arise.

What before excited fears, Rather pleasing now appears; If I sin, it seems so small, Or perhaps no sin at all.

Often thus through sin’s deceit, Grief and shame and loss I meet; Like a fish, my soul mistook, Saw the bait, but not the hook.

O my Lord, what shall I say? How can I presume to pray? Not a word have I to plead, Sins like mine are black indeed.

Made by past experience wise, Let me learn thy word to prize; Taught by what I’ve felt before, Let me Satan’s glass abhor.