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.