Shackle me in chains that I may be free!

Bludgeon my face and break my sinful limbs,

That they would fail to follow wayward whims!

Bind my writhing body beneath the sea,

Weeping on the cold sea floor! Oh, lay me

Numb and maimed and glad, and my soul that dims

Not despite its sins, would sing sweet hymns,

Obey your dear commands, and happy be.

But ah, but no, You God, refuse, and oh,

Find fair endless favor for my foe,

Insatiate Horror: monster through whom all

Find Will to sin and linger languid low,

Who points his bony finger fixed with gall

Toward my soul, and scowls at my fall.