See man's will, his way, his fruitless toils which doth assert the worm above the clay.
Further yet above his Makers nest
All his ways and works doth to this evil loudly attest
Worsens matters by his pretentious plot.
His desire to rob God of HIS Glory and bring HIS WORK to naught
Man at his best secured a ruinous lot.
Man with toiling hands and stubborn pride
Inclines to heightened and despairing depths HIS (Christ's) Sacred Work to deride.
See man's will, his way the countless lies against our Sovereign doth in vain array.
HE is the Lion we the prey;
save at the Cross by his own blood the executioner paid.
Yet through wicked will and cruel design, God hath by HIS OWN SON Salvation Won.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem