My every member, sense, faculty, affection,
is a snare to me.
I can scarcely open my eyes but I envy those
above me,
or despise those below me,
I covet honour and riches of the mighty,
and am proud and unmerciful to the rags
of others,
If I behold beauty it is a bait to lust,
or see deformity it stirs up loathing and disdain.
How soon do slanders, vain jests, and wanton
speeches creep into my heart!
Thou knowest that all these snares
are my corruptions,
and that my greatest snare is myself.
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