How vain are all things here below: Difference between revisions

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==General information==
==General information==
<!--remove the section above if not necessary-->
This is an hymn by [[Isaac Watts]], 1709, Hymn 48 of Book 2, entitled ''Love to the creatures is dangerous''. Meter is {{CiteCat|86. 86 (C.M.)}}.


==Settings by composers==
==Settings by composers==
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==Text and translations==
==Text and translations==
{{top}}
{{Text|English|
How vain are all things here below!
How false, and yet how fair!
Each pleasure hath its poison too,
And every sweet a snare.


{{Text|Latin| <!--replace with correct language-->
The brightest things below the sky
<!--Insert text here. There is no need to begin lines with ":" or end-->
Give but a flattering light;
<!--them with "<br>"; the text will be displayed exactly as entered.-->
We should suspect some danger nigh
}}
Where we possess delight.}}
{{middle|3}}
{{Text|Simple|
Our dearest joys, and nearest friends,
The partners of our blood,
How they divide our wavering minds,
And leave but half for God!


<!--remove the block below if there is no translation-->
The fondness of a creature's love,
{{Translation|English| <!--replace with correct language-->
How strong it strikes the sense!
<!--Insert translation here. There is no need to begin lines with ":" or-->
Thither the warm affections move,
<!--end them with "<br>"; the text will be displayed exactly as entered.-->
Nor can we call them thence.}}
}}
{{middle|3}}
{{Text|Simple|
Dear Savior! let thy beauties be
My soul's eternal food;
And grace command my heart away
From all created good.}}
{{bottom}}


==External links ==
==External links ==

Revision as of 22:44, 19 July 2017

General information

This is an hymn by Isaac Watts, 1709, Hymn 48 of Book 2, entitled Love to the creatures is dangerous. Meter is 86. 86 (C.M.).

Settings by composers

 

Text and translations

English.png English text

How vain are all things here below!
How false, and yet how fair!
Each pleasure hath its poison too,
And every sweet a snare.

The brightest things below the sky
Give but a flattering light;
We should suspect some danger nigh
Where we possess delight.

 

Our dearest joys, and nearest friends,
The partners of our blood,
How they divide our wavering minds,
And leave but half for God!

The fondness of a creature's love,
How strong it strikes the sense!
Thither the warm affections move,
Nor can we call them thence.

 

Dear Savior! let thy beauties be
My soul's eternal food;
And grace command my heart away
From all created good.

External links

add links here

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