Christian Songs, Song LXIX

Man like a flow'r at morn appears, And blooms perhaps a few short years: The flatt'rer hope still leads him on, Pursuing pleasure, finding none; Or, if he finds it for a day, It soon takes wing and flies away!

2 Oft things which promise passing fair, Deceive, and yield him nought but care: Cares ever various, ever new, Is all the happiest ever knew; Comes joy, care with it comes along, And spoils the syren's sweetest song!

3 See pleasure with bewitching charms, Man grasps it in his eager arms; The vision swift dissolves in air— He grasps—but finds it is not there! The airy phantom still he views, And still as vainly he pursues!

4 A better hope the Christian chears, Which joyful thro' life's gloom appears; Firm on a rock his hope he builds, Which to no storm nor tempest yields; Let earth dissolve—he will not fear, For why, his hope's not fixed here.

5 He looks to heav'n, where every joy Is pure, unmixed with alloy; Joys such as mortals never knew, Nor raptur'd fancy ever drew; Joys which shall never pass away, Tho' heav'n and earth shall both decay!

6 Tho' here afflictions do annoy, There sorrow shall be turn'd to joy; Tho' troubles here the sigh do raise, There's nothing heard in heav'n but praise: Pleasures past utterance they share, And face to face see Jesus there!

7 And shall the world's deceitful smile Us of the glorious hope beguile? Shall we earth's empty pleasures prize, And heav'n seem little in our eyes? It must not be—vain dreams away,— Let's look for joys which ne'er decay.