1 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.
2 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 my own,
Nor glory in its painted toys.
3 The empty pageant rolls along;
The giddy inexperienc'd throng
Pursue it with enchanted eyes:
It passeth in swift march away;
Still more and more its charms decay,
Till the last gaudy colour dies.
4 My God! to thee my soul shall turn;
To 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.
Source: A Collection of Hymns and A Liturgy: for the use of Evangelical Lutheran Churches; to which are added prayers for families and individuals #507