Much like my heart both false and true,
I have a name both old and new.
No new thing is below the sun;
Yet all is new, and old things gone.

Though in my flesh dwells no good thing,
Yet Christ in me I joyful sing,
Sin I confess and I deny;
For, though I sin, it is not I.

I sin against, and with my will;
I'm innocent, yet guilty still.
Though fain I'd be the greatest saint,
To be the least I'd be content.

My lowness may my height evince.
I'm both a beggar and a prince.
With meanest subjects I appear,
With kings a royal sceptre bear.

I'm both unfetter'd and involv'd;
By law condemn'd, by law absolv'd
My guilt condignly punish'd see,
Yet I the guilty wretch go free.

My gain did by my loss begin;
My righteousness commenc'd by sin:
My perfect peace by bloody strife;
Life is my death, and death my life.

I'm (in this present life I know)
A captive and a freeman too;
And though my death can't set me free,
It will perfect my liberty.

I am not worth a dusty grain,
Yet more than worlds of golden gain;
Though worthless I myself indite,
Yet shall as worthy walk in white.