When Adam Fell

When Ad­am fell

he quick­ly lost

God’s im­age

which he once pos­sessed:

See all our na­ture since could boast

In Cain

his first-born son

ex­pressed!

The sac­ri­fice the Lord or­dained

In type of the Re­deem­er’s blood

Self-righteous rea­son­ing Cain dis­dained

And thought his own first-fruits as good.

Yet rage and en­vy filled his mind

When

with a sull­en

down­cast look

He saw his bro­ther fa­vor find

Who God’s ap­point­ed me­thod took.

By Cain’s own hand

good Ab­el died

Because the Lord ap­proved his faith;

And

when his blood for ven­geance cried

He vain­ly thought to hide his death.

Such was the wick­ed mur­der­er Cain

And such by na­ture still are we

Until by grace we’re born again

Malicious

blind and proud

as he.

Like him the way of grace we slight

And in our own de­vic­es trust;

Call ev­il good

and dark­ness light

And hate and per­se­cute the just.

The saints

in ev­ery age and place

Have found this his­to­ry ful­filled;

The num­bers all our thoughts sur­pass

Of Ab­els

whom the Cains have killed!

Thus Je­sus fell—but O! His blood

Far bet­ter things than Ab­el’s cries:

Obtains His mur­der­ers peace with God

And gains them man­sions in the skies.