| |
| VAIN world, what is in thee? | |
| What do poor mortals see, | |
| Which should esteemed be | |
| Worthy their pleasure? | |
| Is it the mother’s womb, | 5 |
| Or sorrows which soon come, | |
| Or a dark grave and tomb, | |
| Which is their treasure? | |
| How dost thou man deceive | |
| By thy vain glory? | 10 |
| Why do they still believe | |
| Thy false history? | |
| |
| Is it children’s book and rod, | |
| The labourer’s heavy load, | |
| Poverty undertrod, | 15 |
| The world desireth? | |
| Is it distracting cares, | |
| Or heart-tormenting fears, | |
| Or pining grief and tears, | |
| Which man requireth? | 20 |
| Or is it youthful rage, | |
| Or childish toying; | |
| Or is decrepit age | |
| Worth man’s enjoying? | |
| |
| Is it deceitful wealth, | 25 |
| Got by care, fraud, or stealth, | |
| Or short uncertain health, | |
| Which thus befool men? | |
| Or do the serpent’s lies, | |
| By the world’s flatteries | 30 |
| And tempting vanities, | |
| Still overrule them? | |
| Or do they in a dream | |
| Sleep out their season? | |
| Or borne down by lust’s stream, | 35 |
| Which conquers reason? | |
| |
| The silly lambs to-day | |
| Pleasantly skip and play, | |
| Whom butchers mean to slay, | |
| Perhaps to-morrow; | 40 |
| In a more brutish sort | |
| Do careless sinners sport, | |
| Or in dead sleep still snort, | |
| As near to sorrow; | |
| Till life, not well begun, | 45 |
| Be sadly ended, | |
| And the web they have spun | |
| Can ne’er be mended. | |
| |
| What is the time that’s gone, | |
| And what is that to come? | 50 |
| Is it not now as none? | |
| The present stays not. | |
| Time posteth, oh how fast! | |
| Unwelcome death makes haste; | |
| None can call back what’s past— | 55 |
| Judgment delays not. | |
| Though God bring in the light, | |
| Sinners awake not; | |
| Because hell’s out of sight | |
| They sin forsake not. | 60 |
| |
| Man walks in a vain show; | |
| They know, yet will not know; | |
| Set still, when they should go; | |
| But run for shadows; | |
| While they might taste and know | 65 |
| The living streams that flow, | |
| And crop the flowers that grow, | |
| In Christ’s sweet meadows. | |
| Life’s better slept away | |
| Than as they use it; | 70 |
| In sin and drunken play | |
| Vain men abuse it. | |
| |
| Malignant world, adieu! | |
| Where no foul vice is new— | |
| Only to Satan true, | 75 |
| God still offended; | |
| Though taught and warned by God, | |
| And his chastising rod, | |
| Keeps still the way that’s broad, | |
| Never mended. | 80 |
| Baptismal vows some make, | |
| But ne’er perform them; | |
| If angels from heaven spake, | |
| ’Twould not reform them. | |
| |
| They dig for hell beneath, | 85 |
| They labour hard for death, | |
| Run themselves out of breath | |
| To overtake it. | |
| Hell is not had for naught, | |
| Damnation’s dearly bought, | 90 |
| And with great labour sought; | |
| They’ll not forsake it. | |
| Their souls are Satan’s fee— | |
| He’ll not abate it; | |
| Grace is refused that’s free, | 95 |
| Mad sinners hate it. | |
| |
| Is this the world men choose, | |
| For which they heaven refuse, | |
| And Christ and grace abuse, | |
| And not receive it? | 100 |
| Shall I not guilty be | |
| Of this in some degree, | |
| If hence God would me free, | |
| And I’d not leave it? | |
| My soul, from Sodom fly, | 105 |
| Lest wrath there find thee; | |
| Thy refuge-rest is nigh; | |
| Look not behind thee! | |
| |
| There’s none of this ado, | |
| None of this hellish crew; | 110 |
| God’s promise is most true, | |
| Boldly believe it. | |
| My friends are gone before, | |
| And I am near the shore; | |
| My soul stands at the door, | 115 |
| O Lord, receive it! | |
| It trusts Christ and his merits, | |
| The dead He raises; | |
| Join it with blessed spirits, | |
| Who sing thy praises. | 120 |
| |
