Let not the wise his wis­dom boast,
The migh­ty glo­ry in his might,
The rich in flat­ter­ing rich­es trust,
Which take their ev­er­last­ing flight.

The rush of nu­mer­ous years beats down
The most gi­gan­tic strength of man;
And where is all his wis­dom gone,
When dust he turns to dust again?

One only gift can jus­ti­fy
The boast­ing soul that knows his God;
When Je­sus doth His blood ap­ply,
I glo­ry in His sprin­kled blood.

The Lord, my right­eous­ness, I praise,
I tri­umph in the love di­vine,
The wis­dom, wealth, and strength of grace,
In Christ through end­less ag­es mine.