Now hear this, all you who dwell on earth
Rich or poor, regardless of your worth
I’ve wisdom to impart,
a proverb you should hear
I’ll play it on my harp
Life’s riddles will be clear.
Why should I in days of trouble fear
Even when my foes around appear?
They trust in all their wealth
And boast prosperity
But they can’t buy good health
All earth’s gold could ne’er a soul redeem
Nor would God a ransom equal deem
They perish just like beasts
Their bodies waste away
The greatest to the least
No more see light of day.
When that day comes my soul, my God will save
He’ll take me Home, not leave me in the grave
That’s why we must not fret
When wealthy folks are praised
In spite of all they get
In dust their glory lays.
© 2014 J Dan Small