Inconsistent

A PROUD man, I adore the lowly.
Sinful, kneel before the holy.
Unclean, fall prone before the pure ;
Rebel, salute Who did endure
Unmurmuring ; give blow for blow,
Yet Ilim who, burdened with world's woe,
Unmindful of Mis own, fell low,
Glory to avow I serve ;
And though men jeer, I will not swerve !
Lord, take my heart, and open it ;
Judge Thou if that be hypocrite !
Gold, pomp, revenge, the sword, the drum.
Scorn flaunted full by Christendom,
In face of Him we feign to follow.
And worship with lip-service hollow !
Yet why take this mean Man for God,
Unless for His poor, dark abode,
Where gloweth Love's eternal fire,
We felt some hidden deep desire ?
We are captive, who would fain be free !
Soul of my soul, O Lord, deliver me!