How vain is all beneath the skies!

by Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

Representative text

As printed in The Church Hymnal (1941), no. 490 — the newest hymnal carrying it.

Verse 1

How vain is all beneath the skies! How transient every earthly bliss! How slender all the fondest ties That bind us to a world like this!

Verse 2

The evening cloud, the morning dew, The withering grass, the fading flower, Of earthly hopes are emblems true — The glory of a passing hour.

Verse 3

But though earth's fairest blossoms die, And all beneath the skies is vain, There is a land whose confines lie Beyond the reach of care and pain.

Verse 4

Then let the hope of joys to come Dispel our cares, and chase our fears; If Cod be ours, we're traveling home, Though passing through a vale of tears.