1 Man has a soul of vast desires, He burns within with restless fires; Tost to and fro, his passions fly From vanity to vanity.
2 In vain on earth we hope to find Some solid good to fill the mind, We try new pleasures, but we feel The inward thirst and torment still.
3 So when a raging fever burns We shift from side to side by turns, And 'tis a poor relief we gain To change the place, but keep the pain.
4 Great God, subdue this vicious thirst, This love to vanity and dust; Cure the vile fever of the mind, And feed our souls with joys refin'd.