I prais’d the sea, whose ample field Shone glorious as a silver shield; I prais’d the earth in beauty seen, With garlands gay of various green; And earth and ocean seem’d to say, “Our beauties are but for a day.” I prais’d the sun, whose chariot roll’d On wheels of amber and of gold: I prais’d the moon, whose softer eye Gleam’d sweetly through the summer sky; And moon and sun in answer said, “Our days of light are numbered.” O God! O good beyond compare! If thus thy meaner works are fair; If thus thy bounties gild the span Of ruin’d earth and sinful man, How glorious must the mansion be, Where thy redeem’d shall _dwell_ with thee. _Bishop Heber._ O, come and _dwell_ with me, Spirit of power within, And bring the glorious liberty From sorrow, fear, and sin. _Wesley._ Think on th’ eternal home The Saviour left for you; Think on the Lord most holy, come To _dwell_ with hearts untrue. So shall ye tread untired his pastoral ways, And in the darkness sing your carol of high praise. _Keble._ EARTH. And God called the dry land _Earth_.--Genesis, i. 10. The _earth_ is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.--Psalm xxiv. 1. The _earth_, O Lord, is full of thy mercy.--Psalm cxix. 64. The _earth_ shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.--Isaiah, xi. 9. The _earth_ also and the works that are therein shall be burned up.--II. Peter, iii. 10. Unconstant _Earth_! why do not mortals cease To build their hopes upon so short a lease? Uncertain lease, whose term but once begun, Tells never when it ends till it be done: We dote upon thy smiles, not knowing why, And whiles we but prepare to live, we die: We spring like flowers for a day’s delight, At noon we flourish, and we fade at night: We toil for kingdoms, conquer crowns, and then We that were Gods, but now, now less than men. If wisdom, learning, knowledge, cannot dwell Secure from change, vain bubble _earth_, farewell. _Francis Quarles._ _Earth’s_ cup Is poisoned; her renown, most infamous; Her gold, seem as it may, is really dust; Her titles, slanderous names; her praise, reproach; Her strength, an idiot’s boast; her wisdom, blind; Her gain, eternal loss; her hope, a dream; Her love, her friendship, enmity with God; Her promises, a lie; her smile, a harlot’s; Her beauty, paint, and rotten within; her pleasures, Deadly assassins masked; her laughter, grief; Her breasts, the stings of death; her total sum, Her all, most total vanity. _Pollok._