Let not the strong, the, rich, the wise,

Of knowledge, wealth, or power be vain,

What mortals covet most, most prize,

When won, how few can long retain!

Heaven's noblest gift may prove a snare,

Unsanctified by faith and prayer.

He slept on pleasure's lap, and woke

Shorn of his strength Poor Samson found

The Lord had left him, when he broke

The vow with which his life was bound;

Blind, chain'd, enslaved, returning strength

Brought death with his revenge at length.

The wily traitor was betray'd

In his own craft; though woven well,

The net which for his king he laid

Entangled wise Achitophel;

Folly o'erruled what wisdom plann'd,

He perish'd by his own false hand.

"Soul, take thine ease eat, drink, rejoice,

Through length of years," the rich man said;

"Thou fool! this night," replied the voice

That calls the living to the dead,

"Thy soul shall be required of thee,

Whose then shall all thy treasures be?"

Wise to salvation through His Word,

And rich in faith His kingdom's heir,

Strong in the strength of Christ my Lord;

Be this my portion! 'tis my prayer:

For this would I count all things loss,

And glory only in the cross.