When in the light of faith divine
We look on things below,
Honor, and gold, and
sensual
joy,
How vain and dang'rous too.
The pleasures that allure our sense,
Are dang'rous snares to souls!
There's but a drop of flattering sweet,
And dash'd with bitter bowls.
And shall the followers of the Lord,
Still drink the drunkard's cup;
Find in its frenzy their reward,
And life and hope give up.
God is my all sufficient good,
My portion, and my choice;
In him my vast desires are fill'd,
And all my powers rejoice.
In vain the world accosts my ear,
And tempts my heart anew;
I cannot buy your bliss so dear,
Nor part with heaven for you.