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Poem	The Christian's treasure. 1 Cor. 3:21. How vast the treasure we possess! How rich thy bounty, King of grace! This world is ours, and worlds to come; Earth is our lodge, and heav'n our home. All things are ours: the gifts of God; The purchase of a Savior's blood; While the good Spirit shows us how To use, and to improve them too. If peace and plenty crown my days, They help me, Lord, to speak thy praise; If bread of sorrows be my food, Those sorrows work my lasting good. I would not change my blest estate For all the world calls good or great; And while my faith can keep her hold, I envy not the sinner's gold. Father, I wait thy daily will; Thou shalt divide my portion still; Grant me on earth what seems thee best, Till death and heav'n reveal the rest.
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