God gives his mercies to be spent; <br />Your hoard will do your soul no good. <br />Gold is a blessing only lent, <br />Repaid by giving others food. <br /> <br />The world's esteem is but a bribe, <br />To buy their peace you sell your own; <br />The slave of a vainglorious tribe, <br />Who hate you while they make you known. <br /> <br />The joy that vain amusements give, <br />Oh! sad conclusion that it brings! <br />The honey of a crowded hive, <br />Defended by a thousand stings. <br /> <br />'Tis thus the world rewards the fools <br />That live upon her treacherous smiles: <br />She leads them blindfold by her rules, <br />And ruins all whom she beguiles. <br /> <br />God knows the thousands who go down <br />From pleasure into endless woe; <br />And with a long despairing groan <br />Blaspheme the Maker as they go. <br /> <br />Oh fearful thought! be timely wise; <br />Delight but in a Saviour's charms, <br />And God shall take you to the skies, <br />Embraced in everlasting arms.<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/olney-hymn-7-vanity-of-the-world/
