There's not a man that's born of God,

There's not a man that's born of God,
But readily will say,
"If ever my poor soul be saved,
'Tis Christ must be the way."

There's not a man that's born of God,
But feels the plague of sin;
And though his outside be kept clean,
He feels the filth within.

The old man struggles hard to gain
The conquest over grace;
And oft he seems to gain the field,
When Jesus hides his face.

God knows we can do nothing well,
He knows we are but dust;
He came to seek poor sinners out,
And you and me the worst.