Poem by William Cowper

Olney Hymn 7. Vanity of the World

    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. 

1. Pairing Time Anticipated
2. An Ode, on Reading Mr. Richardson's History of Sir Charles Grandison
3. Olney Hymn 24. Prayer for Children
4. Olney Hymn 49. True Pleasures
5. The Jackdaw

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