"The Gladness of My Joy"

The world has varied charms, yet none
Without some base alloy,
I turn from it to Thee, my God,
The gladness of my joy.
Sorrow may sorely press me down,
Yet not my peace destroy,
It only drives my soul to Thee,
Still gladness of my joy.
Earth's highest prize becomes a straw,
A worthless, glittering toy,
Beside Thy beauty, O my God,
The gladness of my joy.
Then let me all my heart and soul,
My every power employ,
In serving, praising Thee, who art
The gladness of my joy.

-Elizabeth Prentiss