What has the world to give thee
That thou holdest its hand so fast?
It gives thee pleasure and laughter,
Can it give thee peace at last?
What has the devil to give thee?
Thou hast wrought for him faithfully;
Thro' life's morning, and noon, and even,
None was thy master but he.
Thou hast worked and hast played—art thou
weary?
He will give thee thy wages, he saith;
They come at the end of the journey,
And what are the wages?—Death.
What can thy heart do for thee':
Is it strong enough to save?
Is it wise enough to guide thee
To the land beyond the grave?
Thou thinkest it strong it is feeble;
Firm it is tempest-tost:
Free 'tis the slave of Satan,
Thou thinkest it safe—it is lost.
What has the Savior to give thee?
He gives Himself to thee,
He gives thee peace and pardon,
And life for eternity.
His presence for life's rough pathway,
His voice through the din of strife,
His smile at the end of the journey,
And His love which is "better than life.”