O the weakness, O the folly,

That my heart did e’er entwine

Round a joy, or hope, or promise,

Vain, unstable World, of thine!

Thou with all thy proffered treasure

Shalt ere long from me remove:—

Turn, fond heart, with holy rapture,

Unto God thy trust and love.

Are there none of my companions,

Will from life attend me forth,

Or will fondly watch beside me

In the cold and silent earth?

All thy boasting this, O Friendship!

Shedding tears and heaving sighs,

When my need of thee is greatest,

When thy doting votary dies?