Not as the World Giveth

How gives the world?
Its best wine when the feast is scarce begun,
But bitter dregs ere life’s short race is run:
A smiling circle, many an open door,
So long as thou art rich in earthly store.
Waters which look so cool, but tasted, prove
Never can’st thou thy soul’s deep thirst remove
With these ; thou mayest drink and drink again,
Still quenchless shall that burning thirst remain.
Pleasures that fall and crumble at thy touch,
And yield so little where thou hop’dst so much.
Joys, that for one brief moment seem so sweet,
But swiftly pass from thee on winged feet.
Leaving an aching emptiness behind,
Yet nought to fill it can thy sore heart find.
O weary one, He said it should be so,
Did not His own lips tell while here below,
That whoso drinketh from an earthly well
"Shall thirst again"—thirst no words can tell.
Thus gives the world.

Not so gives Christ. He gives a flowing cup.
And ever doth His bounty fill it up
Until it brimmeth o’er with joy untold,
Unspeakable, and glories manifold.
And yet ’tis ever, "Thou hast kept till now
The good wine of the kingdom, Lord," and "Thou
Exceedest far the fame that I had heard."
For Thy deep love is more than human word
Can utter; human heart can think or know.
The love of Christ is boundless as the flow
Of ocean tide. And ever more and more
The heart possessing its unfathomed store,
Is finding out its depth, and breadth, and height
And learning Christ, as day by day His light
Shines clearer on an ever brightening way.
Yes, never more my sun shall set by day,
Nor darkness cast its shadow on my brow,
For Jesus is my endless glory now.
No longer are my dearest hopes denied,
For Christ has every longing satisfied.
Yes, satisfied. No more a vague unrest
Shall break the deep, sweet peace within my breast.
For He which hath begun the work of grace,
Will perfect it, until I see His face.