Out of This Life

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 have toiled for a painting rare, To hang on my wall, I must leave it there. 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...