“Set your affection on things above.” Col. 3. 2
I. Watts C.M.
How vain are all things here below;
How false, and yet how fair!
Each pleasure has its poison too,
And every sweet a snare.
The brightest things below the sky
Give but a flattering light;
We should suspect some danger nigh,
When we possess delight.
Our dearest joys, and dearest friends,
The partners of our blood,
How they divide our wavering minds,
And leave but half for God!
The fondness of a creature’s love,
How strong it strikes the sense!
Thither the warm affections move,
Nor can we call them thence.
Dear Saviour, let thy beauties be
My soul’s eternal food;
And grace command my heart away
From all created good.