1 Lord, how in Silence I despise
The giddy Worldling's Snare,
This Beauty, Riches, Honour, Toys
Beneath a Moments Care?

2 Hence painted Dust, and gilded Clay!
You have no Charms for me;
Delusive Breath be far away!
I waste no Thought on thee.

3 But when abroad at once i view
Both the World's Hosts and thine,
These simple, sad, afflicted, few,
Those numerous, gay and fine!

4 Lost my Resolves, my Scorn is past,
I boast my Strength no more.
A willing Slave they bind me fast
With unresisted power.

5 O brook not this! Let not thy Foes
Profane thy hallow'd Shrine;
Thine is my soul, by sacred Vows
Of strictest Union Thine!

6 O hear my just, tho' late Request,
Once more the Captive free,
Renew thy Image in my Breast,
and claim my Heart for thee.