Fond heart, when learnest thou to say,
I love not pomps that fade away,
Nor glories that decay and wane,
Nor lights that rise to set again?
When wilt thou turn where Abraham turned,
And learn the lesson Abraham learned?
Beyond the river while he dwelt,
He with his kin to idols knelt,
And nightly gazing on the sky,
Worshipped the starry host on high.
But when he saw their splendours fail,
And that bright multitude grow pale,
He left them, and adored the moon;
But she too wanly wanèd soon.
Baffled, he knelt unto the sun;
But when his race of light was done,
He cried, “To such no vows I bring—
I worship not the perishing!”
And turned him to the God, whose hand
Made sun, and moon, and starry band—
An everlasting Light, in whom
Decrease and shadow find no room.