1 To thee, my GOD, I hourly sigh,
But not for golden stores;
Nor covet I the brightest gems,
On the rich eastern shores.

2 Nor that deluding empty joy,
Men call a mighty name;
Nor greatness in it gayest forms,
My restless thoughts enflame.

3 Nor pleasure's soft enticing charms,
My fond desires allrue;
Far greater things than earth can yield,
My wishes would secure.

4 Those blissful, those transporting smiles,
That brighten Heav'n above;
The boundless riches of thy grace,
And treasures of thy love.

5 These are the mighty things I crave:
O! make these blessings mine;
And all the glories of the world
I gladly will resign.