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William Cowper - Olney Hymn 7: Vanity of the World
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God gives his mercies to be spent; 
Your hoard will do your soul no good. 
Gold is a blessing only lent, 
Repaid by giving others food. 

The world`s esteem is but a bribe, 
To buy their peace you sell your own; 
The slave of a vainglorious tribe, 
Who hate you while they make you known. 

The joy that vain amusements give, 
Oh! sad conclusion that it brings! 
The honey of a crowded hive, 
Defended by a thousand stings. 

`Tis thus the world rewards the fools 
That live upon her treacherous smiles: 
She leads them blindfold by her rules, 
And ruins all whom she beguiles. 

God knows the thousands who go down 
From pleasure into endless woe; 
And with a long despairing groan 
Blaspheme the Maker as they go. 

Oh fearful thought! be timely wise; 
Delight but in a Saviour`s charms, 
And God shall take you to the skies, 
Embraced in everlasting arms.
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