Martha S. Nicholson
Let me hold fast, Lord! things of the skies
Quicken my vision, open my eyes!
Show me Thy riches, glory and grace,
Boundless as time is, endless as space!
Let me hold lightly things of this earth,
Transient treasures, what are they worth?
Moths can corrupt them, rust can decay:
All their bright beauty fades in a day.