Vain Man, on Foolish Pleasures Bent

Vain man on fool­ish plea­sures bent

Prepares for his own pun­ish­ment;

What pains

what loath­some ma­la­dies

From lux­ury and lust ar­ise!

The drunk­ard feels his vi­tals waste

Yet drowns his health to please his taste;

Till all his act­ive pow­ers are lost

And faint­ing life draws near the dust.

The glut­ton groans

and loathes to eat

His soul ab­hors de­li­cious meat;

Nature

with hea­vy loads op­pressed

Would yield to death to be re­leased.

Then how the fright­ed sin­ners fly

To God for help with ear­nest cry!

He hears their groans

pro­longs their breath

And saves them from ap­proach­ing death.

No me­di­cines could ef­fect the cure

So quick

so ea­sy

or so sure:

The dead­ly sen­tence God re­peals

He sends His sov­er­eign Word and heals.

O may the sons of men re­cord

The won­drous good­ness of the Lord!

And let their thank­ful of­fer­ings prove

How they ad­ore their mak­er’s love.