Windham

Broad is the road that leads to death
And thousands walk together there;
But wisdom shows a narrower path
With here and there a traveler

"Deny thyself, and take thy cross,"
Is the Redeemer's great command;
Nature must count her gold but dross
If she would gain this heav'nly land

The fearful soul that tires and faints
And walks the ways of God no more
Is but esteemed almost a saint
And makes his own destruction sure

Lord, let not all my hopes be vain
Create my heart entirely new;
Which hypocrites could ne'er attain
Which false apostates never knew