Olney Hymns (1840)/Book 1/Hymn 56

56.
Vanity of the Creature Sanctified.

1 Honey though the bee prepares,
An envenom'd sting he wears;
Piercing thorns a guard compose
Round the fragrant blooming rose.

2 Where we think to find a sweet,
Oft a painful sting we meet;
When the rose invites our eye,
We forget the thorn is nigh.

3 Why are thus our hopes beguiled?
Why are all our pleasures spoil'd?
Why do agony and woe
From our choicest comforts grow?

4 Sin has been the cause of all!
'Twas not thus before the fall:
What but pain and thorn and sting
From the root of sin can spring?

5 Now with every good we find
Vanity and grief entwined;
What we feel or what we fear
All our joys embitter here.

6 Yet, through the Redeemer's love,
These afflictions blessings prove;
He the wounding stings and thorns
Into healing med'cines turns.

7 From the earth our hearts they wean,
Teach us on his arm to lean;
Urge us to a throne of grace;
Make us seek a resting-place.

8 In the mansions of our King
Sweets abound without a sting;
Thornless there the roses blow,
And the joys unmingled flow,