Wisdom
By Mildred Allen Jeffrey
I took the best of my youth, For pleasures all my own.
Forgetting I must some day reap, The chaff that I had sown.
I took the best of every day, When mind was fresh and keen,
To do the special things I loved, The things that would be seen.
My youth soon fled, and I alone, Reaped sorrow for my pleasure,
The things I loved to do for show, Proved but an empty treasure.
But when I gave my best to God, My life — the morning hour I found,
His pleasure was my own, His grace my shining tower!
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