Know Your Enemy.

Lord, My every sense, member, faculty, affection, is a snare to me,
I can hardly open my eyes and when I do, I envy those above me, and despise those below me.
I covet the honor and riches of the mighty, and I am proud and unmerciful to the rags of others;
If I see beauty it is a bait to lust, or see deformity, it stirs up loathing and disdain;
How soon do slanders, vain jests, and cruel speeches creep into my heart!
Do I think of myself as beautiful and glorious? what fuel for pride!
Am I deformed? what an occasion for repining!
Am I gifted? I lust after applause!
Am I unlearned? how I despise what I have not!
Am I in authority? how often do I abuse the trust others give me, make will my law, exclude others' enjoyments, serve my own interests and policy!
Am I inferior? how much I grudge others' pre-eminence!
Am I rich? how exalted I become!
You know that all these are snares by my corruptions, and that my greatest snare is myself.
I deeply sorrowful that my apprehensions are dull, my thoughts mean, my affections stupid, my expressions low, my life unbecoming;
Yet what can you expect from dust but levity, of corruption but defilement?
Keep me ever mindful of my natural state, but let me not forget my heavenly title, or the grace that can deal with every sin.