Out of this life I shall never take
Things of silver and gold I make.
All that I cherish and hoard away,
After I leave, on earth must stay.

Though I call it mine and I boast its worth,
I must give it up when I quit the earth.
All that I gather and all that I keep
I must leave behind when I fall asleep.

And I wonder often, just what I shall own,
In that other life when I pass alone,
What shall He find and what shall He see,
In the soul that answers the call for me?

Shall the great Judge learn when my task is through
That my soul had gathered some riches too?
Or shall at the last, it be mine to find,
That all I had worked for, I'd left behind?

—Author Unknown