The transitory Nature of the World, an Argument for christian Moderation. 1 Cor. vii. 29, 30, 31

Spring up, my Soul, with ardent Flight, Nor let this Earth delude thy Sight With glitt'ring Trifles gay and vain: Wisdom divine directs thy View To Objects ever grand and new, And Faith displays the shining Train.

Be dead, my Hopes, to all below; Nor let unbounded Torrents flow, When mourning o'er my wither'd Joys: So this deceitful World is known; Possess'd I call it not mine own, Nor glory in its painted Toys.

The empty Pageant rolls along; The giddy unexperienc'd Throng Persue it with enchanted Eyes; It passeth in swift March away, Still more and more its Charms decay, Till the last gaudy Colour dies .

My GOD, to Thee my Soul shall turn; For Thee my noblest Passions burn, And drink in Bliss from Thee alone: I fix on that unchanging Home, Where never-fading Pleasures bloom, Fresh springing round thy radiant Throne.