Hymn XXXIII. Long Metre. A grave and decent Deportment

Behold the sons and heirs of God So dearly bought with Jesu's blood! Are they not born to heavenly joys? And shall they stoop to earthly toys?

Can laughter feed th' immortal mind? Were spirits of celestial kind Made for a jest, for sport, for play, To wear out time and waste the day?

Doth vain discourse or empty mirth Well suit the honours of their birth? Shall they be fond of gay attire, Which children love, which fools admire?

What if we wear the richest vest? Peacocks and flies are better drest; This flesh with all its gaudy forms, Must drop to dust and feed the worms.

Lord, raise our hearts and passions higher, Touch our vain souls with sacred fire; Then, with a heaven-directed eye, We'll pass these glittering trifles by.

We'll look on all the toys below, With such disdain as angels do; And wait the call that bids us rise, To mansions promis'd in the skies.