Hymn to Humility

Of all the Christian virtues chief
With modest charms, and mild relief,
Most apt to heal the wounds of pride, and spleen,
To thee, humility; I bend;
O let me feel, thou art my friend!
Rule thou my bosom, as its gentle queen!
  
'Tis thine benignly to repress
All proud conceit, all vain excess;
To give the chasten'd mind its proper tone;
To make it keep in sight
The worth of others with delight,
And never look too fondly on its own.
  
Teach me, with active zeal, to wake
At nature's sigh, for pity's sake,
When pride in dreams of apathy will nod!
Still guided by thy Christian breath,
Keep me, thro' scenes of life, and death,
To mortals kind, and dutiful to God.