1 My Soul forsakes her vain Delight,
And bids the World farewel;
Base as the Dirt beneath my Feet,
And mischievous as Hell.

2 No longer will I ask your Love,
Nor seek your Friendship more;
The Happiness that I approve,
Lies not within your Pow'r.

3 There's nothing round this spacious Earth
That suits my large Desire;
To boundless Joy and solid Mirth
My nobler Thoughts aspire.

[4 Where Pleasure rolls its living Flood,
From Sin and Dross refin'd,
Still springing from the Throne of God,
And fit to cheer the Mind.

5 Th' Almighty Ruler of the Sphere,
The Glorious and the Great,
Brings his own All-sufficience there,
To make our Bliss complete.]

6 Had I the Pinions of a Dove,
I'd climb the heav'nly Road;
There sits my Saviour drest in Love,
And there my smiling God.