96
POEMS BY CLARA A. MERRILL
Nay, your riches ne'er can save yon, Virtue is the Gem of Worth; You your wealth can not take with you To the last "six feet of earth.'
Jesus once was poor and lowly, And His crown held many a thorn; Yet His heavenly Father loved Him As He suffered grief and scorn.—If your soul is pure and stainless You have Wealth,—there'll ne'er be dearth; When at last the clay is sleeping In your own "six feet of earth."
