Nay, World! I turn away

Though thou seem fair and good;

Thy friendly outstretched hand

Is stained with Jesus' blood.

If in the least device

I stoop to take a part,

All unawares thine influence steals

God's glory from my heart.

I miss the Saviour's smile

Whene'er I walk thy ways;

Thy laughter drowns the Spirit's voice

And chokes the songs of praise.

Whene'er I turn aside

To join thee for an hour,

The face of Christ grows blurred and dim,

And prayer has lost its power.