Classic Poem

Gold filleth none!
That which has life
Alone can fill the living;
That which has love
Alone can fill the loving.
Gold is not life or love,
It is not rest or joy;
It withers up the heart,
It shrivels up the soul;
It filleth coffers, hearts it cannot fill.

Gold healeth none!
It has no balm for wounds,
It binds no broken hearts,
It smooths no ruffled brow,
It calms no inner storm.
It cannot buy from heaven
One drop of rain or dew,
One beam of sun or star,
Far less the heavenly shower,
Or light, that has the healing in its wings.