O Lord, my every sense, member,

O Lord, my every sense, member, faculty, affection, is a snare to me.

I can scarce open my eyes but I envy those above me,

or despise those below.

I covet the honor 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!