The Treasury Of Sacred Song

The merry World did on a day

With his train-bands [64] and mates agree

To meet together where I lay,

And all in sport to jeer at me.

First Beauty crept into a rose;

Which when I pluck'd not, 'Sir,' said she,

'Tell me, I pray, whose hands are those?'

But Thou shalt answer, LORD, for me.

Then Money came, and chinking still,

'What tune is this, poor man?' said he;

'I heard in music you had skill:'

But Thou shalt answer, LORD, for me.

Then came brave Glory puffing by

In silks that whistled, who but he!

He scarce allow'd me half an eye:

But Thou shalt answer, LORD, for me.

Then came quick Wit and Conversation,

And he would needs a comfort be,

And, to be short, make an oration:

But Thou shalt answer, LORD, for me.

Yet when the hour of Thy design

To answer these fine things shall come,

Speak not at large; say, 'I am Thine,'

And then they have their answer home.