What Empty Things
Music by: George Allen

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What empty things are all the skies,
And this inferior clod!
There’s nothing here deserves my joys,
There’s nothing like my God.

How vain a toy is glitt’ring wealth
If once compared to Thee;
Or what’s my safety or my health,
Or all my friends to me?

Were I possessor pf the earth,
And called the stars my own,
Without Thy graces and Thyself,
I were a wretch undone.

Let others stretch their arms like seas,
And grasp in all the shore,
Grant me the visits of Thy face,
And I desire no more.