Farewell, honor’s empty pride,
Thy own nice, uncertain gust,
If the least mischance betide,
Lays thee lower than the dust:
Worldly honors end in gall,
Rise today, tomorrow fall.

Never shall my wand’ring mind
Follow after fleeting toys,
Since in God alone I find
Solid and substantial joys;
Joys, that never overpast,
Through eternity shall last.

Recordings 1