1 Let the sinner prize his treasure,
I would love things above,
Yielding higher pleasure.
2 Sons of mirth your joys deceive you,
They are vain, will give pain,
And ere long will leave you.
3 Let men thirst for worldly glory,
Court renown, seek a crown,
All is transitory.
4 I shall still prefer my station,
Seek for peace, taste its bliss,
Free from observation
5 They who toil with pain and anguish,
To obtain earthly gain,
Soon will pine and languish.
6 Such the treasure I’m possessing,
Naught on earth can give birth,
To an equal blessing.
7 God my strength will still sustain me,
Though I’m poor, I am sure,
He will not disdain me.
8 May I feel increasing pleasure,
In His ways all my days,
Own Him as my treasure.
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #16119