Classic Poem

Consider me yours;
for I worship You, Lord.
In the company of saints,
my spirit soared.

Now I need nothing.
My thoughts are of You.
My faith is complete.
My devotion is true.

Distractions are many.
Friends say, 'Grab this world.'
They love worthless things
and call them their pearls.

Now I can see
those people are clowns,
since death sets a trap
and they just fall down.

Here I sit
alone at your feet.
Give me your patience
to become complete.

To my old friends
I will not respond;
for You are the one
of whom I am fond.

If I deal with the world
for advantage or gain,
the saints will laugh;
They’ll know I’m insane.

But if I give You faith,
forevermore,
I’ll sit with the heroes
of ancient lore.