Rejoice not in thy wealth of house and fields,
Nor build your hopes and bliss on earthly fame;
Earth but a momentary glory yields,
Its brightest joys are as an empty name.
Oh, fix no fondness there; 'twill prove a thorn;
Many, that deeply loved, have deeply rued
Attachments so unworthy; and they warn
Others from treading where their feet have stood.
The Savior teaches a far wiser course,
To deem it glory, not that we possess
Mere wealth or power, or learning's proud resource,
Which mock us with the show of happiness;
But that we have, in that dread Book on high,
Our names inscribed of God, in words that never die.
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