Let Others Worldly Riches Prize

Let others world­ly rich­es prize

I scorn this earth­ly clod;

My por­tion is ab­ove the skies

My Sav­ior and my God.

In all that men call good and great

No plea­sure can I find;

A lof­ty house

or large es­tate

Can ne’er con­tent the mind.

Were the Pe­ru­vi­an mount­ains mine

With all their hid­den store

Did I in gold and jew­els shine

I still should wish for more.

Not Crœ­sus’ wealth

nor Cæ­sar’s pow­er

Were I of both pos­sessed

Could in­ward peace and joy re­store

Or ease the trou­bled breast.

Restless I rove from place to place

And search from pole to pole

’Till Je­sus shows His love­ly face

There’s nought can cheer my soul.