Hymn LXXIX. Of the vanity and insufficiency of temporall things.
[_]
That we may not be evermuch delighted with such
Things as perish, to the losse of our portion in things
of most Excellency. We are hereby remembred to
consider the Vanitie and Insufficiency of Temporall Things.
Sing this as a Hermit-poore.
[1]
What is there Lord
Within this Lower Orbe,
Which doth afford,
A pleasure or content?
But may disease,
Discomfort or disturbe,
Vnlesse thou please
Their mischiefs to prevent?
No marvell, tho
The worst do sorrows bring;
Since there is woe,
In ev'ry pleasant thing.
2
Wealth bringeth Care
Sometimes, as much as Want.
Our Honours are
Attended with disgrace.
When Hopes are best,
Our Hearts with Fears do pant.
Our daint'est Feast,
Is marr'd with btiter sawce.
Distrust, to lose
The Pleasure, we possesse,
Them overthrowes,
Or makes their sweetnes lesse.
3
Our Beauties fade,
Assoon as they are blown.
We Weak are made,
E're we are fully strong.
We often dote,
When wisest we are grown.
Youth, frees us not
From Griefs, whil'st we are yong.
No Age, or State,
Condition, or Degree,
Can promise that,
In which no Changes be.
4
That, which we sought,
With all our pow'rs, to win
As if we thought,
Our chiefest Blisse it were:
That, which esteem'd
Above our lives, hath hin;
And, which hath seem'd
Beyond Salvation, dear.
That is at last,
A thing unpleasing made;
And leaves no tast,
Of those Contents, it had.
5
They, who in me
Their chief Delights did place;
Now, senslesse be
That e're so fond they were.
They, in whose love,
I, no lesse pleased was;
No liking, move;
And Strangers now they are.
Yea, what with pain,
I sought; I now do lothe,
Oh God! how vain
Was that, or I, or both.
6
What we despise,
Anon, is precious thought.
What, we now prize,
E're long, we much disdain.
This Day we love,
Whom, next we set at nought.
And fickle prove,
Yet shamelesly complain.
Their Vanitie,
Things mortall publish thus;
And certaintie,
Ther's none, in them, or Vs.
7
Oh Lord! since we,
And, all that here we love,
Things changing be;
Let us on Thee depend.
From Things below,
(To reach the things above)
Thy Servant show,
Which way he should ascend.
And, let me there,
Live, Love, and loved be;
Where Pleasures are,
Whose end I shall not see.
