Dagon Before the Ark

I

When first, to make my heart his own,
The Lord reveal’d his mighty grace,
Self reign’d, like Dagon, on the throne,
But could not long maintain its place.

II

It fell, and own’d the power divine,
(Grace can with ease the victory gain,)
But soon this wretched heart of mine
Contrived to set it up again.

III

Again the Lord his name proclaim’d,
And brought the hateful idol low;
Then self, like Dagon, broken, maim’d,
Seem’d to receive a mortal blow:

IV

Yet self is not of life bereft,
Nor ceases to oppose his will;
Though but a maimed stump be left,
’Tis Dagon⁠—’tis an idol still.

V

Lord! must I always guilty prove,
And idols in my heart have room?
Oh! let the fire of heavenly love
The very stump of self consume.