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1. Rich are the joys which cannot die,
With God laid up in store;
Treasures beyond the changing sky,
Brighter than golden ore.
2. The seeds which piety and love
Have scattered here below,
In the fair fertile fields above
To ample harvests grow.
3. The mite my willing hands can give,
At Jesus' feet I lay;
Grace shall the humble gift receive,
Abounding grace repay.