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Deluded souls, who think to grasp
A solid bliss below!
Bliss! the fair flower of paradise,
On earth can never grow.
See how the foolish wretch is pleased,
T' increase his worldly store;
Too narrow now he finds his barns,
And covets room for more.
“What shall I do?” distrest he cries;
“This scheme will I pursue;
My scanty barns shall now come down—
I'll build them large and new.”
“Here will I lay my fruits, and bid
My soul enjoy her ease;
Eat, drink, be glad, my lasting store
Shall yield what joys I please.”
Scarce had he spoke, when lo! from heaven
Th' Almighty made reply;
“Thou fool, for whom dost thou provide,
Since thou this night shalt die!”
Teach me, my God, that earthly joys
Are but an empty dream;
And let me find my all of bliss
la thee, the good supreme.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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Bible Refs:
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Lk 12:16-22;
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1815 | # 653 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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WINDSOR
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1533,1591
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 451 | Gm | | # 237 | Gm | | # 274 | Gm | | # 43 | Gm | | # 90 | Gm | | # 267 | Gm | | # 596 | Gm | | # 275 | Gm | | # 291 | Gm |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
