Tell me no more of earthly toys,
Of sinful mirth, and carnal joys,
The things I loved before;
Let me but view my Savior’s face,
And feel His animating grace,
And I desire no more.

Tell me no more of praise and wealth,
Tell me no more of ease and health,
For these have all their snares;
Let me but know my sins forgiv’n,
But see my name enrolled in Heav’n,
And I am free from cares.

Tell me no more of lofty towers,
Delightful gardens, fragrant bowers,
For these are trifling things;
The little room for me designed
Will suit as well my easy mind,
As palaces of kings.

Tell me no more of crowding guests,
Of sumptuous feasts and gaudy dress,
Extravagance and waste;
My little table, only spread
With wholesome herbs and wholesome bread.
Will better suit my taste.

Give me the Bible in my hand,
A heart to read and understand,
And faith to trust the Lord;
I’d set alone from day to day,
Or urge no company to stay,
Nor wish to rove abroad.