No pleasure stirs but what our senses bless,

No thoughts can rise but what our minds conceive;

All tears that fall are at the heart’s behest,

All honest truth must from the soul precede.

It matters not how we shall spend our days,

For time is all we hold, and that soon lost.

The human form exalts in quiet praise,

And dearest things are those that can’t be bought.

Rapacious hearts will only crave for more

Blind to the truth that gain may yet be loss—

Despite grand riches, still do God implore

That they reach heaven’s gates the better dressed.

Naked came I and naked I return,

Content but here to live and love and learn.