How vast the treasure we possess!

How rich thy bounty, King of grace!

This world is ours, and worlds to come;

Earth is our lodge, and heav'n our home.

All things are ours: the gifts of God;

The purchase of a Savior's blood;

While the good Spirit shows us how

To use, and to improve them too.

If peace and plenty crown my days,

They help me, Lord, to speak thy praise;

If bread of sorrows be my food,

Those sorrows work my lasting good.

I would not change my blest estate

For all the world calls good or great;

And while my faith can keep her hold,

I envy not the sinner's gold.

Father, I wait thy daily will;

Thou shalt divide my portion still;

Grant me on earth what seems thee best,

Till death and heav'n reveal the rest.