Though ease and plenty, fruits of wealth,
And all the means of life and health,
And sweet convenience, please;
Without soft clothing, downy bed,
Or ceiled roof above my heed,
With Christ I could find peace.

When he came down from heav'n to earth,
A manger was his place of birth,
And all his kindred poor;
And while he wrought my righteousness,
Content, he fill'd a lowly place,
Nor ask'd his Father more.

Why then should I, who taste his grace,
And hope in heav'n to see his face,
Be careful by the way?
I shall enjoy a pleasant lot,
When earthly scences are all forgot,
In realms of endless day.

Angels and saints for company,
In that blest mansion, I shall see,
Myself immortal too;
And when, before my Saviour's throne
They cast their brightest honours down,
My soul, with theirs, shall bow.

For ever I shall see HIM shine,
Forever more shall call HIM mine,
Whom heav'n's high hosts adore;
Then let him give the world away,
And grant HIMSELF and HEAV'N to me,
And I will ask no more.