A poem on Psalm 84
The world offers treasures
Endless hollow pleasures
That lures me to pursue
And promises something new
Come chase after gold
There’s so much to hold
Such joy in wealth
Better than health
Long for men to cheer
Love their praise to hear
But it is worth far less
Than all the press
Its promise of peace
Will suddenly cease
All its deceiving delights
End in a thousand dark nights
God is the measure
Of what is real treasure
The cross is the place
To make my heart race
In the death of my King
My heart will now sing
Joy is my possession
Gone all transgression
Rising up from the grave
This rebel to save
The cross is my glory
It is my whole story
It cannot be priced
I am satisfied in Christ
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