1. God gives His mercies to be spent;
Your hoard will do your soul no good.
Gold is a blessing only lent,
Repaid by giving others food.
2. The world’s esteem is but a bribe,
To buy their peace you sell your own;
The slave of a vainglorious tribe,
Who hate you while they make you known.
3. The joy that vain amusements give,
O! sad conclusion that it brings!
The honey of a crowded hive,
Defended by a thousand stings.
4. ’Tis thus the world rewards the fools
That live upon her treacherous smiles:
She leads them, blindfold, by her rules,
And ruins all whom she beguiles.
5. God knows the thousands who go down
From pleasure into endless woe;
And with a long despairing groan
Blaspheme their Maker as they go.
6. Oh fearful thought! be timely wise;
Delight but in a Savior’s charms,
And God shall take you to the skies,
Embraced in everlasting arms.
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #1885
|Instances (1 - 1 of 1)||Title||First Line||Tune||Tune Key||Author||Meter||Scripture||Date||Subject||Source|
|The Cyber Hymnal #1885||God Gives His Mercies to Be Spent||God gives His mercies to be spent||HOLBORN HILL||William Cowper||LM||<cite>Olney Hymns</cite> (London: W. Oliver, 1779)|