There
is a poverty so deep,
There
never is recovery From sorrows that will never sleep
For time and all eternity.
This
poverty is cloaked with wealth
Which
has no power to redeem The soul which outlives fleeting health
And wakes from death as from a dream.
The
fool and brutish person perish
And
leave their wealth, of course, to others.
They neither keep the things they cherish,
Nor can they thus redeem their brothers.
They’re
passing on their inward thought
To
generations that will follow Who then approve their sayings taught,
And thus inherit what is hollow.
It’s
not by riches they have sinned,
But
rather by their sinful lust, And thus their heirs inherit wind
Who place in riches all their trust.
There
is a resting place from strife
That
struggles still to know the truth; A lasting heritage of life
May yet be passed on to our youth.
Our
God and Savior opens eyes
Of
those who seek Him and are humble, And in His light we are made wise,
But those rejecting Him will stumble.
We
thank You, Lord, for riches true
Which
You procured upon the cross Which we receive who trust in You
To save our souls from endless loss.
How
great the wealth is of salvation!
How
great the poverty of sin! Lord, help us reach this generation
Which, with Your Gospel, we may win.
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